A Casual Arrangement
by dipdipdipmyblueship
Summary: He knew she had a soft spot for him. She wouldn't have been able to resist the pull he had over her for long. And he was going to exploit that weakness to get what he wanted. He smiled as he blew out the smoke from between his lips. Oh yes, he had such delicious plans for the lovely Carla Connor ...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm currently drafting a fanfic based on the current Carla/Peter storyline on Corrie, but as I have found some of my old fanfic drafts, I felt more inspired to upload and re-write some of these first. **

**This story takes place two weeks following Peter and Leanne's wedding blessing, and Maria has just begun working as Carla's PA in the factory.**

* * *

**February 28th, 2011**

Peter sat in the pub, casually twirling the glass of orange juice in front of him. Lloyd and Steve sat across from him, both filling him in on the ridiculous stories from the switchboard at Streetcars. He laughed along with them, not really paying much attention, but welcoming their attempts to take his mind of recent events. He knew they were just trying to make sure he was okay, and if he was honest, it was a rather welcomed change from the normal tea and sympathy with his dad and Deirdre at number 1.

It had been just under two weeks since his wedding blessing to Leanne had ended in catastrophe. A catastrophe of his own planning, he admitted. Outing his shiny new bride's affair with her ex-husband to the entire congregation was definitely the gossip the likes of Norris was salivating about for days after. Leanne had begged him to give her another chance, assuring him that what had happened between her and Nick meant nothing, and that he was the man she loved, but he couldn't believe her. Even as she tried again the following day, as she tearfully said goodbye to Simon, he couldn't bring himself to forgive her for betraying him.

It wasn't until he was convinced by his dad to give her another chance that he found himself running through Piccadilly station, as fast as he could with his crutch; racing against the clock before her train departed for London. But as he found himself on the platform, he came to a grinding halt.

There she was, with _him_. Kissing _him._

Nick flaming Tilsley.

He wanted to say his heart broke at the sight but surprisingly it hadn't. Maybe he was numb to it, but instead of sadness, he felt a sense of anger mixed with relief. He _knew_ she had been lying about how she didn't love her ex anymore. It was as clear as day to him. He could never trust that she wouldn't always want Nick over him.

His eyes met hers, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Her face became awash with regret and as she tried to rush over to him, he turned his back and left the platform, ignoring her pleas and apologies as they echoed across the station.

She had tearfully boarded the train with Nick, and Peter had visited a solicitor's office the following day. He didn't want to wait another day to get the ball rolling on the annulment papers.

He wasn't naive.

He knew they would be back. After all Nick owned_ The Joinery _and Leanne was the manageress. The Platts lived here, and Janice. Peter knew he hadn't seen the last of them. He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of the cold juice, just as the doors to the Rovers opened.

He heard her before he saw her.

That throaty laugh of hers, followed by the sound of her heels clicking along the floor as she entered the pub behind her workforce, arms linked with Maria.

_Carla_.

The other woman he had called out at the blessing.

He instinctively leaned his elbows onto the table, his fingers circling the rim of the glass as he watched her. She hadn't seen him yet, much to his benefit. His eyes raked over her body, starting from those high heeled boots of hers, up to the curve of her hips, all the way up to the dark hair she casually flicked over her shoulder as she ordered a round of drinks for her workers.

"...oh and a glass of white and a glass of red, please Seany," she drawled out as she pulled the money out of her wallet, "and 'ave a glass for yourself an' all."

"Cheers, Mrs. C. I'll bring them over." Sean replied as he took the notes from her hand.

It was then, as she turned to head into the booth behind her, that she locked eyes with him. The beautiful smile she had suddenly faded; the colour draining slowly from her face.

He smirked at her, and she swallowed the lump forming in her throat before quickly sliding into the booth beside Maria.

Peter couldn't help but chuckle, drawing the piqued interest of Steve and Lloyd. "Sommit we should know?" Lloyd asked, his arms crossed in front of him

"Eh?" Peter responded

"Oh, come on. Let us in on the joke." Steve said, "you've got a right look on your face."

The bookie chuckled into his juice, "oh just remembered one of them silly jokes Simon told me today."

"Oh right," Steve brought his hand up to stroke his chin, "and it has nothing to do with the certain brunette that owns the factory down the road who just 'appened to walk in, does it?" he motioned to the booth behind him with his thumb.

"That obvious?"

Steve pulled a sarcastic face, "nah not at all."

Peter smirked and downed the rest of his orange juice, "Well, think I best make a move, lads! Simon will be driving me dad and Dierdre up the wallpaper by now."

"Oh right, yeah" Lloyd and Steve muttered along, "_Simon_ will be worrying, yep." They both exchanged a sideways glance and snickered.

Peter stood up with an eye roll, "Oh shut it..." Grabbing his coat, he walked past them before slipping right into the next booth. His eyes watching the dark haired woman across from him as the wine glass she had brought to her lips paused, her green eyes slowly raising up to meet his.

"Hello Carla." His voice was low and throaty and sent shivers down her stomach. She took a tentative sip of her wine, before placing the glass as steadily as she could down on the table.

"Hiya," she responded quietly, "How are ya?"

"Top of the world." His gaze moved to Maria, who was glaring at him over her wine glass, "Maria." he nodded at her

"Peter." The hairdresser responded back cooly, causing a chuckle to emit from his lips before turning back to Carla.

"Well listen I won't keep you from whatever scintillating conversation I've obviously interrupted," he stated earning a scowl from Maria, "but I was wondering if you'd be free tomorrow night for a catchup?"

Carla's brows furrowed together, her eyes not leaving his. She inhaled slightly, "umm I don't know if that's a good idea Pe'er..." He smirked in spite of himself, the way she'd occasionally drop the 'T' from his name, just did things to him...

"Oh come on," he pressed, leaning forward on the table towards her, "just a catchup between friends. No ulterior motives I promise."

"You are joking?" Maria cut in, "And what? She's just supposed to trust you after that stunt you pulled at your wedding blessing?"

Peter watched as Carla's head dipped towards to the table, her eyes focusing on her hands in her lap as embarrassment danced across her features.

"Well, that's what I wanted to have a chat with you about. A _private_ chat," he stressed, throwing a sideways glance at the hairdresser. Carla still hadn't raised her head up, so he leaned ever closer, "Carla?" his voice was barely above a whisper, but she raised her eyes to meet his, "Look, you can tell me to do one if you like. But I wanted the chance to talk to you. To explain," at her hesitancy he continued, "and to apologize." She breathed out, her eyes quickly darting uneasily to Maria. "Come on," Peter said, "come to mine tomorrow about half six. I'll make us some dinner. What do you say?"

Carla pursed her lips. Something felt off, but it also felt 'oh-so-right'.

"Okay. Half six it is." She responded, taking a sip of her wine.

"Great," He raised and dropped his hands on the table, as he leaned back and smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow then." He smoothly rose out of the booth, and threw her a winning smile, "Enjoy your drink," He turned and nodded at the hairdresser, "Maria."

"Night then," Carla responded as Peter walked past her and Maria rolled her eyes, and leaned in towards the older woman.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Carla. After what he did to you at the blessing, I'm surprised you would even want to give him the time of day." Maria stated, leaning back into the booth and taking a sip of wine.

"Look, other than Leanne, no one is more embarrassed then I am over what happened in that church, but I do know that I deserved what happened, Maria. I dunno, maybe this is a chance for us to bury the hatchet, you know?" Carla smiled at the woman next to her, "I'll be fine." she reassured her as she reached over and patted the blonde's knee. "Now let's talk about this potential client coming tomorrow: Frank Foster..."

Peter stood outside Number 1, having lit a cigarette and taking a long drag. He smiled in spite of himself. He hadn't expected his first meeting with Carla since their encounter in the church, to go that smoothly.

But ultimately, he knew she had a soft spot for him. She wouldn't have been able to resist the pull he had over her for long.

And he was going to exploit that weakness to get what he wanted.

He smiled as he blew out the smoke from between his lips. Oh yes, he had such delicious plans for the lovely Carla Connor ...


	2. Chapter 2

"Julie? How is that sample coming along?" Carla asked stepping out of her office and coming to stand beside the blonde machinist.

"I'm just about done. Just need to finish up the trim and the add the suspenders." She handed over the red corset Carla and Maria had agreed to show Frank Foster the following evening, as she stood up to get the trim needed from one of the bins.

The factory boss turned the corset over in her hands. Expert fingers and eyes checking for inconsistencies in the seams. A smile tugged at her lips as she handed the sample back to Julie. "That's great work, love! I reckon this may just seal the deal with Frank for us. How long do you think it'll take you to finish?" She asked, glancing at the clock for what felt like the millionth time that day.

_5:15PM_

"Maybe half an hour? Though to be honest, I could be more productive without the audience." Julie responded quietly, nudging her chin towards the machinists who were standing near the kitchen watching the exchange, sipping their tea and whispering. As Carla turned towards them, they all looked away in an attempt to appear nonchalant and disinterested, and it caused her to snicker,

"Alright you lot, you can all clear off for the day and leave poor Julie 'ere to finish up what may be our golden ticket to kickstart this place again. Go on, chop chop!" she clapped her hands at them.

"Well I don't need to be told twice!" Izzy stated as she rolled to the clocking out station, followed by the remainder of the staff.

"Night Mrs. C! See you in the morning!" Kirk called out, with a little wave.

"Make sure you're all here 9AM sharpish!" She called out after them. With a nod to Julie she walked back into the office.

"Right, I've spoke to Kirk," Maria stated as she sat down, "He can babysit Liam tomorrow night so that's all sorted."

"Oh I've been thinking," Carla responded her head not lifting from the paperwork she was working on, "would you mind taking it over yourself?"

"Me?" Maria asked incredulously

"Yeah," Carla finally looked up to Maria, "Well it's been your baby from the off hadn't it with this sample, thing. Run with it."

"On me tod?"

"You're only delivering the stuff, aren't you? You just gotta go and keep him sweet for an hour or so." She could see the uncertainty in Maria's eyes, remembering what it was like the first times she had to meet a client on her own and sighed, "to be honest I'll be more use here won't I? Getting this place sorted out, so that if he does sign I can hit the ground running, can't I?"

"I don't know, Carla..." Maria sighed

"It's kinda part of the job," Carla responded kindly but firmly, "go on get glammed up! He'll end up putty in our hands." She smiled encouragingly at the blonde, "you can do it."

"Well, alright then, I'll go" Maria answered, feeling more assured with Carla's confidence in her.

"Well good!" Carla looked up from her paperwork and smiled again, "Thanks, Maria. Look just be like you were today. You'll do us proud!"

"Well, I'll try." she laughed nervously before clearing her throat, "Are you still going to Peter's tonight, then?"

Carla's hand stopped writing for a split second, before she nodded and continued writing, "yeah. I'm curious as to what he's got to say. And it would give me a chance to explain meself without an entire congregation staring at me." she chuckled nervously.

"Well, just don't let him add on to your guilt, Carla. He knows how to twist the knife, that man. You don't need his sort messing with your head, okay?"

Carla mockingly saluted Maria, "yes boss!" She looked up from her paperwork, "go on home, I'll close up once Julie is done."

"If you're sure?" At Carla's nod, she stood up to get her coat and purse, "right, well I will see you tomorrow morning then. Night Carla."

"Night, love."

As Maria exited the factory, Carla glanced at the clock on her desk. _'How is it 5:30PM already?_' she thought nervously. She shook her head and went back to her paperwork, the gentle whirring from Julie's machine taking her mind off the growing nausea that was building in the pit of her stomach...

* * *

It was an hour later that Carla found herself standing outside the bookie's flat with that same uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. She shifted from foot to foot and bit her bottom lip as she raised her hand to the buzzer. She stopped short when she realized her hand was shaking. Lowering it abruptly, she stepped away from the buzzer and paced nervously in a circle as she shook her hands repeatedly at her sides in an effort to halt the trembling. _'God I am so pathetic!'_ she chastised herself angrily, _'come on pull yourself together Car.' _She took a few deep, even breaths, closing her eyes and placing her hands out in front of her to steady herself; Squaring her shoulders, she shook her hair out of her face and turned to face the door again. Reaching up once more, her fingers hovered for a split second prior to pressing the call button, before fumbling with the shoulder strap on her bag.

"Yeah?" came the abrupt response through the intercom.

"It's Carla," she answered, a little higher pitched than normal. '_Flippin' 'eck, calm yourself Connor'_

"Come on up," Peter stated. She swore she could practically hear him smirking as she was granted access.

_'__What the hell is he up to?_' she thought warily as she pushed open the door and closed it tightly behind her.

Her eyes gazed at the slightly ajar door at the top of the stairs and tentatively took the first step up. Her ears were picking up the faintest music from above, which became increasingly louder and more prominent as she ascended the staircase. She gently pushed the door open to a welcoming aroma of spice, and peered around the frame.

"Hey," The bookie greeted her as he stepped into her line of vision whilst quickly drying his hands with a towel, "glad you could make it," his voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned over and planted a tender kiss on her cheek, an action that sent a flutter from Carla's heart straight down to her nether regions. _Whoa._

"Well it was a choice of either dinner 'ere, or a cup of instant noodles at 'ome so," she teased as she deftly moved around him and into the flat, desperate to put a bit of space between them. She kept her back to him as she pretended to look about the apartment, but her mind was preoccupied with him; and his tanned, rock-hard, tattooed, muscled…

'_Damn traitorous body_' she scolded herself, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Make yourself comfortable love," Peter shouted happily from the kitchenette, throwing the tea towel over his shoulder and placing his oven mitts on his hands, "help yourself to some fizzy water if you like, it's on the table there," he stated as he bent down to retrieve the trays from the oven, "of course if you fancy sommit a bit stronger I can run across to the pub and buy you a bottle of red?"

"Oh and I'm sure that neither Steve or Liz would have any moral qualms about selling it to you an' all, would they Peter?" Carla answered with a snicker, removing her coat and hanging it on the coat rack along with her purse before stepping back into the flat's main room, "but honestly, fizzy water suits me just fine."

"That's good to hear," Peter answered as he closed the oven and removed the mitts from his hands, "glad to know I won't have to pour you into a cab tonight. You know seein' as how you're license is still suspended from your drink drivin' charge." He smirked making his way around the kitchenette, noticing the way she visibly winced at his words, before stopping in front of her. He felt a mixture of smugness and disgust at himself for the briefest of moments. He wanted to hurt her; for knowing about Leanne and Nick and keeping it to herself to use to fulfill her own selfish lust towards him. And yet, as she stood there biting her lip and attempting to avert his eyes, he felt a pang of guilt course through him. _Why, though?_

Carla kept her eyes fixated on his sofa as Peter reached his arm towards the table, his fingers almost brushing across the material of her shirt, as he took the bottle in his hands, "Here, let me get it for you." He said kindly, trying in some way to take back the harshness of his dig. She took a slight step back, before meeting his eyes and fixing him with a lopsided smile, "well you might not 'ave to pour me in a cab, but you might need to roll me in one if that dinner tastes 'alf as good as it smells." She responded, her mask well and truly back in its place.

Peter handed the now full glass of fizzy water to her, and smiled, "well, I have to admit, I ended up being a little more busy today then I thought I would and ended up dropping Si off at me dad's a little later than expected. So, I ended up ordering a takeaway. I'm just warming it up in the oven. Hope you like Thai food."

"Yeah, I love it." she smiled, as he poured himself a glass and turned, his body standing very close to hers

"To new beginnings then," he whispered, gently clinking his glass with hers.

She frowned slightly at the mischievous look in his eye, feeling both aroused and on edge as his eyes raked up and down her body, "to new beginnings" she responded, taking a sip and attempting to step back from him before feeling his hand slip around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

"You scared to be near me, Carla?" he whispered, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers and feeling her body tremble in his grasp.

She licked her lips and shook her head "No," she croaked, her voice unable to disguise her emotions

"I think you are," he taunted her, his nose brushing along her cheek. He felt her shuddering breath as his lips edged nearer to hers.

This was all she had wanted since that first time he visited her flat after her and Trevor split up. That night he nursed her cut hand, and let her open up to him about Liam. The night he tucked her in as she fell asleep, and stayed with her all night to ensure she was okay. As his lips brushed gently against hers, she felt her stomach flip and her heart flutter. And yet, her brain was sending off warning bells.

Something wasn't right.

Her brain won out, and she gently pulled out of his grasp, placing the glass on the table and positioning herself behind the chair. "Peter, what's going on? I thought you wanted to talk?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I think we can do better that just talk." he responded lustfully and she felt a shiver rush through her body. Her fingers softly gripped into the chair's back as she willed her self control to come back. No man, not even Liam, had caused her to lose her bearings and her control before. With Liam it was always a cat and mouse game; growing up together, they knew each other so well, and each gave gave as good as they got. But with Peter, it was new territory: he always seemed to knock down those barriers she kept building up around herself, shattering her confidence with that gorgeous smirk of his and those warm, inviting eyes. With Peter she felt like she was a teenager again, falling in love for the first time, and awakening all kinds of emotions from fear of the unknown to sheer joy.

He stepped towards her like a lion to its prey, her eyes were wide and questioning, her fingers turning white as she gripped the chair. But her body was betraying her, almost leaning towards him as he inched closer.

This wasn't how he expected this to go. He had wanted to take his time playing with her tonight. Breaking down her barriers one by one until she agreed to his terms: a casual, sexually charged arrangement, in which _he_ was in charge. He would call the whens and wheres they would meet and he would hold all the cards. Yes a casual, lust based arrangement that he would devour until he had his fill of her, and then cut her loose. A final parting gift to twist the knife. He wanted her to feel the pain she had caused him: to use her simply to fulfill his own lust like she had planned to do with him.

But he was already failing at trying to be in charge. Whenever she was near him he couldn't help but be aroused. Those plump lips, those piercing eyes, that soft skin...

...but she was now pulling away from him, playing her little conniving games again and trying to regain control. _'not this time, baby'_

"I thought this is what you wanted, Carla" he stated, his frustration evident behind his voice.

Her brows furrowed at his question and tone, "what are you talking about Pe-"

He interrupted her, "Oh don't play coy with me, love! It doesn't suit you."

Her eyes began to harden, her walls coming back up as she blinked repeatedly, pressing her lips together before responding, "so this whole, wanting to talk and have a chance to explain what 'appened between us, was just a lie? Y-You just wanted to lash out at me? You didn't want to put the past to bed at all, did you?"

Peter smirked and placed his hands on the chair she was leaning on, "oh I wanted to put it to bed alright..." he growled lowly, before removing the chair from between them and stepping closer to her as she stepped back until her body made contact with the counter behind her.

She watched as Peter placed both hands on the counter on either side of her, stepping so close she could feel his arousal on her leg. Her body instinctively positioned itself so he was between her legs, her hips wanting desperately to push up against his. She swallowed her desire for him down, willing that he couldn't hear her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "You can't tell me this isn't what you wanted all along, Carla? Me to find out all about my cheating wife, split up with her without you being the one to point it out, while all the while you are there, laying your groundwork, like the minx you are, to get me into your bed."

His hand came up to brush along her hair, but he dared not meet her eyes... not yet. He continued, "You use men, Carla. You use them to feel better about yourself and to forget about Liam; and once someone else sparks your fancy, some other married bloke perhaps, you get your fill and cut them loose. Well, I may be onto your game but I can certainly help you with your lust towards me," his hand moved to cup her cheek as her body stiffened, "I can give you what you wanted for months-" he whispered seductively in her ear before pausing, suddenly horrified. He felt moisture on the hand that cupped her cheek and he pulled back to look at her; dread automatically coursing through him.

Her eyes were glassy, hot tears had spilled down her face as she bit viciously into her quivering bottom lip. She looked crushed as she gazed at him, and he couldn't stop the guilt that flooded him.

"Carla," he began, using his thumb to wipe the tears on her cheek, "I'm, I'm sorry-"

"Let me go," she whispered, her eyes narrowing and hardening. He automatically stepped away, giving her space to step out around him. She grabbed her jacket,

"Where are you going?" Peter asked, suddenly terrified he had pushed her too far

"Home." she responded, wiping the back of her hands across her cheeks, "It was a mistake for me to come here."

"Carla, please I'm sorry," he pleaded with her "I shouldn't have said what I did, I didn't mean it"

"Oh I think you meant every word." she grabbed her purse and opened the door to the flat. "Goodbye Peter"

"Carla, please!" he cried out as she descended the stairs. "I'm so sorry." he whispered, leaning up against the doorframe as he watched her exit onto the street below.

For weeks he had thought about this. He had convinced himself that she only wanted him for sex. But after her reaction tonight, it was as though the haziness had lifted.

There was something far deeper than just lust towards him. And he had well and truly pushed her away tonight.

He just hoped he hadn't lost her for good...


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you for the kind reviews. :)**_

* * *

Steve entered the Rovers, happy to be done his shifts with Streetcars for the night. His eyes locked on the bookie, hunched over a glass of lemonade on the far end of the bar. Steve stepped behind the bar and walked over to Peter, leaning casually on the wall behind him and folding his arms.

"Didn't expect to see you in here tonight, mate," Steve's voice roused Peter from his thoughts, raising his head to look at his friend, "thought you and Carla had _plans_?" he raised and lowered his eyebrows in a knowing manner.

Peter rolled his eyes, "yeah, didn't exactly go to plan, that," he muttered as he took another sip of his lemonade.

"Yeah, I figured as much when I saw her leaving your flat and walking off towards hers in a huff." Peter nodded sadly, "I did offer her a lift but she said she needed the fresh air." At the bookie's silence, Steve continued on, attempting to lighten the mood, "I mean I 'ave to be honest I thought she would 'ave bitten me hand off for a lift. I don't know how she can walk in those heels she's got on without toppling over, but it must be some sort of superpower, I reckon. I think that woman walks better in heels than most of us do in flats, am I right?"

Peter smiled in spite of himself, his thoughts now carrying back to Carla and how she was always just that bit taller than him when in her sky high heels. And Steve was right, he couldn't remember a time where she ever slipped or stumbled, even on those dreaded cobblestones.

Steve leaned on his elbows on the bar, "wanna talk about it?"

Peter turned his glass slightly, before meeting the pubowner's gaze, "you ever think you know someone, Steve? Like you think you've got them all pegged out and then you just...I dunno, end up completely off the mark?"

Steve didn't respond, but just stared at Peter in stunned silence. They continued to look at each other until Peter broke eye contact for a few seconds, his eyes glancing around the pub uncomfortably before turning back to the man leaning close to him, until the bookie couldn't take the awkwardness anymore, "What?"

"_**Have you even met me?!**_" Steve raised his voice to an almost comical pitch as he pushed himself up off his elbows to an upright position, "you're talking to the man who keeps thinking he understands the women he marries only to wind up more confused about them then when he was actually dating them! How many times, Peter? How many times have I been married? Come on, tell me!"

"Uhhhh" Peter grunted out awkwardly

"Come on man! How many times?"

"Twice?" Peter responded

"Twi-Twice!" Steve sputtered out incredulously, "Try four! Four flaming times, Barlow! Four! Vicky, Karen, Karen again, and Becky." He counted each one off on his fingers.

"Yeah, well I'm on marriage number 4 too, Steve." Peter muttered drinking some more of his lemonade.

Steve pondered this for a moment, "Well, yeah, but you are that much older than me...and one of your marriages was a bit more of a two for one..."

Peter glared at Steve, until the younger man cleared his throat, "So come on, what happened with you and Carla?"

Peter sighed, "I'd rather not get into the nitty gritty details right now, Steve to be honest with you." he said rubbing his forehead, before getting an idea, "Hey, is Lloyd still at the cabbies?"

"Yeah, why?"

Peter took out his phone, "I'm going to see if he can get me a cab to Carla's flat."

"What? Now?"

"Yeah, I gotta apologize and I'd rather do it now."

"It's past eleven, mate. And besides, I don't think she'd be back yet." Steve responded

"Back?" Peter asked in surprise, "From where?"

"She called for a cab around nine. She was going to some last-minute business mixer." He watched as Peter's face fell in disappointment as he put his phone back in his jacket pocket. "Perhaps it's better to wait until tomorrow any way. Let the dust settle, you know?"

"Fine," Peter sighed, finishing the rest of his lemonade, "yeah, you're probably right," But as he rose to his feet he felt his phone buzzing. He glanced at the clock, wondering who would be calling him at this hour. Taking his mobile out of his jacket, he felt his stomach flip as the name _Carla Connor_ flashed up on the screen. Giving Steve a 'one moment' signal with his finger, Peter pressed the answer button, "Carla?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Why did you invite me over?" she slurred. _'Well I guess she is out hitting the bottle then,'_ he thought and frowned. _'Business mixer, my eye! Why did she have to get into this state?'_ he worried angrily as as he stepped outside the Rovers.

"Carla, are you okay? You sound strange." _'Is she on her own? Should I go get her?'_

"I'm not the strange one here Barlow, **_you_** are." She accused him slurring once again. _Strange? How have I come off strange? _

"Carla, have you been drinking?"

"What's it to you?" _That's a yes, then._

"I'm- curious is all. Where are you?" _I need to go and get her. Fix this mess I've made of things._

"In a p-pub."

"Which one?" He breathes frustratingly. _Give me an honest answer Connor, or when I find you so help me…_

"A pub in town,"

_'You smart-mouthed little...!'_ "How are you getting home?"

"I'll find a way." She breathed, "Might just pour meself into a cab after all, what do you reckon?"

Peter sighed. Just like the entire evening, this conversation was not going exactly to plan. _Just keep her talking…_

"What pub are you in? Which town?"

"Why did you invite me over to yours for dinner, Peter?"

"Carla, just tell me where are you, dammit!" his temper began to kick in full swing. _'I need to know where the hell she is,'_ he thought angrily, _'I just need her to be okay.' For fuck sake, Carla! _

She giggles, "You're so… domineering," she giggles once more, and he couldn't help the smirk tugging at his lips_, 'I do love that sound'_ he thought closing his brown eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, before remembering the situation. Feeling powerless to help her, he felt the rage rise up in him again

"Carla, so help me, where the _fuck_ are you?" He nearly shouted down the phone, glancing up to see that Steve had come outside.

She continued to giggle, and he felt a pleasurable twitch in his jeans. "I'm in Didsbury… s'long way from Weatherfield." _Oh not as far as you want it to be, love. _

"Where in Didsbury?" he repeated once more, trying to control himself from shouting into the phone and causing a scene.

"Bye Pe'er."

"Carla!" he exclaimed, but she has already hung up. _FUCK!_ He looked at the screen, desperately hoping it would tell him where she was but to no avail.

"I know where she is," Steve said, "Or at least I know where I dropped her off."

"Are you serious?" Peter asked hopefully

"Well like I said I know where I dropped her off, but whether she's still there or not," he shrugged his shoulders apologetically

"Can you take me there?" he asked, zipping up his jacket at Steve's nod. They quickly made their way across the cobbles, as fast as Peter's healing leg would let him

He climbed into the passenger seat of the car, taking out his phone and redialing the last number hurriedly.

_Answer Carla, answer. _

"Hel-hello?" she answered sounding almost confused.

"I'm coming to get you," Peter stated firmly before hanging up as Steve revved the engine and sped off down the road.


	4. Chapter 4

It was fifteen minutes later when Steve pulled up in front of one of the many bars in Didsbury's city centre. Peter's eyes quickly scanned the area, looking out of the passenger window and by sheer luck, his eyes landed on Carla. She was leaning against the brick wall of one pub, looking quite unsteady on her feet. A man around the same age as her was standing far too close for the bookie's liking.

_Is that jealousy?_ He wondered fretfully, before instinct had him opening the car door and walking towards them. _Oh yeah, it's jealousy, alright!_

His eyes suddenly flashed white-hot rage as he watched the slimeball's hands slide up from his side to reach for the disoriented factory boss's face. Peter's fists clenched and he quickened his pace, vaguely aware that Steve was now eagerly following him.

_Get your filthy hands off her you slimy ponce!_

He inched closer to hear Carla weakly refusing the man, _"No Rory, stop–" _her hands were pushing back against his chest trying to find a way out of his embrace, and Peter smirked angrily as this Rory bloke continued being resistant. _That's right, keep giving me a reason you worthless piece of -_

"I believe the lady said no." Peter's voice boomed. Rory turned his head to the side, still not releasing the factory boss's shoulders, further angering the bookie.

"Did anyone ask you?" Rory replied tersely. Peter glowered at him, his upper lip twitching into a snarl as he took a step forward; the severity of just what could have happened to the woman currently being restrained against the wall had he not showed up when he did, flooded through him and made him instantly sick.

All of a sudden Carla doubled over Rory's arm and spewed a small amount of red liquid on the ground just between the two men before surrendering into a fit of dry-heaves.

"Shit! Carla you alright?" Rory asked in concern, but before he could stabilize her, Peter reflexively reached for Carla's dark hair swiftly tugging it back over her shoulders out of the line of fire. Brushing past a bewildered Rory, the bookie gently lead her over to a nearby flowerbed lined with shrubs.

"If you're going to throw up again, do it here love." He soothingly rubbed her back in small circles with one hand – the other held her hair back in a makeshift ponytail.

Carla tried to resist Peter awkwardly, before she found herself in yet another violent spasm of dry heaves. Peter closed his eyes and turned his head in the other direction, as the sound of her poor stomach lurching had him holding back a gag.

When she finally rose to her feet, Peter pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed the corners of her full, plump lips before she shakily plucked it from his hand and tentatively pressed it to her mouth. Peter sighed deeply, angry with himself for allowing her to get herself into this state in the first place. As they slowly made their way back towards Steve, he resolved that he wouldn't let her out of his sight for the remainder of the night. _'I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if she was mugged or ra-' _He shook his head to rid himself of that unpleasant image and unknowingly held onto her a little tighter.

Rory still lingered outside of the bar, watching them make their way back from the side of the building. He opened his mouth to speak to the factory boss but thought better of it the second his eyes latched onto the bookie's blazing orbs.

"I'll uh… call you tomorrow Carla." He muttered as he slinked back off into the building under Steve's watchful eye. Peter gestured to the cabbie to give him and Carla some space to chat, and with a nod Steve followed Rory into the bar.

_'Alone with her again,'_ Peter thought with a worrying frown, watching as she turned to lean her back against the brick wall, '_should I say something?_

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly into the handkerchief she still had pressed to her lips.

"What are you sorry for Carla?" The words flew out of his lips before he had a chance to mull them over

"The phone call mainly, throwing up... yeah, probably more so the latter," she bowed her head an inch more as embarrassment flooded through her.

But Peter couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. _I'm glad it was me you called, baby._

"We've all been here, though perhaps not quite as dramatically as this," Peter responded a little too dryly. He could actually see her back stiffen in defense

"Yeah, well not all of us have cigarettes and a flat to use as kindling at our disposal now do we?" She snapped back

"Touche," his lips twitched at her biting words. _Her and that smart-ass mouth…_

"But that was a mistake that I learned bitterly from Carla. This, however, is not the first time you've put yourself in harm's way simply for the sake of drowning your sorrows in multiple glasses of booze! Do you make a habit of this kind of behaviour?" _What are you doing man? Fucking scolding her? For goodness sake you don't even do this with your own kid!_

"No _dad_," she says a little off handily. "And for your information I'm not drunk! I've never been known to get drunk off of one glass of wine before."

"One glass eh?" Peter scoffed, "and just how big was the glass Carla? Bottle-sized?"

"Oh you know what? Piss off Barlow!" She pushed herself away from the wall and placed her hands on her hips, her body swaying slightly but still managing to look incredulously at him, "You should know by now that when I fall off the wagon I at least own up to 'ow much I've necked. So," she jabbed him in the chest with her finger, "when I tell you I 'ad one glass, I 'ad _one_ glass! Alright?!"

She turned sharply on her heel with the full intention to march away from him before her eyes swam in a hazy blur. She stumbled suddenly, falling into Peter's arms as he propped her up against him.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, I've got you," the bookie stated reassuringly as he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist while swinging one of hers around his neck, "come on, let's get you to the car."

"No, I don't need your help -" she began to protest, "I- I can get home on me own." She weakly pushed against him but his grip on her was rather tight.

"Oh, I have no doubts that you can love, you're doing a marvelous job of it too an' all." He teased

She stopped moving forwards, "Am I?" Her head dropped to her feet and like a toddler taking their first steps, she gingerly placed her foot out in front of her, before giggling as her weight shifted from the back foot to the front. "Well ho-hey! Look at me go!" She push√ed herself away from the bookie and threw her arms out to either side of her, steadying herself as if she was walking on a tight-rope, "heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe," she repeated to herself before stopping mid-step and holding her foot out in front of her, "Oi Barlow!" she called over her shoulder, "I 'ave got some great taste in footwear if I do say so myself! What do you reckon?"

Peter arched a brow at her sudden shift in mood. He'd seen Carla drunk before, and this wasn't it.

_Something isn't right_.

He walked behind her, his hands hovering near her waist as she continued her tight-rope walk, giggling as she went.

"Carla?"

"Hmm?" she turned sharply, a smile gracing her features as if they didn't just argue forty-five seconds earlier, or five hours prior for that matter. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, and if it didn't just turn him on...

"How much did you drink tonight?" He asked her carefully

"Two glasses of fizzy water, one glass of lemonade, and one glass of red wine, _**thankyouverymuch**_!" she recited before her brows furrowed, "actually I don't think I finished the wine now that I think about it." She turned around to continue her tight rope walk, when Peter gently turned her back,

"Why don't you try going this way, love," At her inquisitive look he continued, "it's more challenging this way." He shrugged through his lie

"Ahhh I reckon you might be onto sommit there, Barlow." She laughed before putting her arms out and glancing down at her feet.

Peter's brow furrowed in confusion as he watched Carla again become utterly fascinated by her boot for a long moment before continuing her walk along her imaginary tight-rope.

"heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe…"

This wasn't her usual drunken behaviour. Normally he'd find her in a depressive state, wallowing in self-hatred and loathing, then, as the booze wore off, she'd become defensive and embarrassed; resorting to harsh piercing words and flinging insults from that smart mouth of hers. Finally she would become remorseful in her sober state and, dare he say it, almost shy as she would apologize profusely for lashing out at him, admitting that she did indeed have a problem with her drinking. In fact, she was just like him in many ways: they would both routinely hit four of the five steps of grief in their drunkenness: denial and isolation, depression, anger and acceptance.

But this behavior, this almost giddy, childlike Carla, was not at all usual. Not routine in the slightest, and it left him completely dumbfounded.

Peter took his eyes off of her long enough to glance in the open door of the pub. He locked eyes with a concerned looking Steve, who was standing at the bar listening to that Rory bloke and the bartender speak rather animatedly, and gave him a questioning look. Just as the three men began to make their way towards him, a flash of blue lights pulled his attention back towards the sidewalk, where he saw Carla now completing her tight rope walk with a flare, giggling to herself and shouting something to him about being a shoe-in for 'Cirque du Soleil'…

…and completely unaware of the two officers stepping out of their car just behind her.

* * *

"Look officer, I'm telling you she isn't intoxicated, alright?" Rory stated with a raised voice.

"Really?" The younger officer questioned sarcastically, using his head to gesture to where Carla now sat slumped against the outer wall of the bar, seemingly asleep and propped up by Steve, "so would you call that her normal disposition then?"

"No, it isn't but I can assure you it's not her drunken disposition either," Peter snapped back, thoroughly agitated with this line of questioning. They had been going around in circles with this officer for the past ten minutes while his partner was off questioning the bartender.

"Peeeeterrrr!" A singsong voice called to him and he turned to see Carla, now awake, leaning on Steve's knees with her elbow and beckoning him towards her with her finger.

He dropped to his knees quickly at her side, his hand caressing her hair softly, "yes love, you okay?"

She smirked at him, and wagged her finger at him, "you are being shnippy Peter Barlow, and you sh-shouldn't be shnippy with them coppers or they'll bang you up" she held her hands up on either side of her face and closed them together, making a '**shhhhhhhoooom**' sound, "and then they'll throw away the key!" she tossed an imaginary key over her shoulder with a whistle.

Peter couldn't help but smile at her, "is that right?"

"Mmm Mmm" she nodded, "and I- I for one wouldn't like that,"

"You wouldn't eh?"

"No,"

"Why?"

"Cause I'd miss you,"

"Oh," His smile got larger as he gazed at her glossed over eyes. Worried as he was about her current state, he couldn't help but admit that she was damn near adorable right now. As if reading his thoughts, she giggled once more and sunk her teeth into her lower lip before frowning and beginning to fidget.

"Easy there champ," Steve stated as he attempted to keep her from falling over, but she was already attempting to shrug her jacket off her slender shoulders, "no, no, no I think you should keep that on,"

"But Steeeeeve I'm hoooooooooooot!" she whined and the two men stifled a laugh

"Be that as it may," Steve continued, gently easing on her jacket, "There's a nip in the air Carla and I think you should stay warmer rather than cooler."

She stuck her tongue out at him and pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and furrowing her brows.

Steve looked at Peter and gestured to the factory boss with his thumb, "Is it wrong that I want to give her anything she wants when she does that?"

"That's 'cause you're a pushover." Peter chuckled

"Oh and I suppose that you could just resist this face could you? Eh?" Steve asked defensively, turning Carla's head by the chin towards the bookie as if for emphasis

"Oh I'm even worse mate, I'd buy her a whole wardrobe of shoes,"

"Pretty ones!" Carla piped up, "boots, and pumps, and sht-shtilettos, and-and ooooh and **_boots_**!"

"Ahh you already said boots," Steve frowned

"It needed repeating."

"Sorry to interrupt," a voice called from over Peter's shoulder, and they all glanced up to see the older officer standing with the bartender just behind them

"Hiiiiiii!"Carla waved to him, "Ohh Ohhh," she stuck her hand up in the air like an excited child at school.

The officer stifled a laugh, "yes?"

"Do you carry a gun?"

"No ma'am, I carry a taser,"

"Do you really?"

"Yes ma'am."

There was a pause, before "can I see it?"

"No ma'am you cannot."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest "Spoilsport! I can 'andle a taser. I 'ave fired a gun before you know?" She stated knowingly

"Have you?" the officer stifled a laugh

"Yup," Carla leaned her head against the brick wall and closed her eyes, "shot me ex-husband in the shoulder while he tried to burn down my factory with us two inside."

The officers looked at each other and then to the other men in stunned silence, "seriously?" the younger one asked

"Always did fancy himself a romantic… Scottish psycho…" she mumbled

"So what did you find out?" Peter asked the officers, trying his best to get back to the topic at hand

"Well from the statements from both the bartender and the gentleman who was with Mrs Connor when you arrived, it appears that she may have had something slipped in her drink."

"You what?" Peter asked incredulously

"I only served her one drink mate," the bartender stated to the bookie, "she were barely drinking it to. Only taking a couple sips here and there, and she were fine at first, but then I could hear her start slurrin' her words when she was making a phone call on her mobile shortly afterwards. I 'ad my suspicions, but she kept nursin' the drink so I couldn't take it away from her. But then I found those," he pointed to the opened blister pack, now in a plastic bag, in the officer's hand.

"So he gave me the head's up and that's why I was trying to take her to the hospital when you two showed up," Rory piped in, "but she's stubborn like anything! Took me five minutes just to get her outside."

"We're going to have our lab run tests on this to verify what was in this pill pack. But I've already called for an ambulance. It is imperative that you get her to the hospital as soon as possible so they can run tests to find traces of the drug in her system. The quicker they catch it after ingestion the better," the officer said.

"So uhh, you won't be arresting her for drunk and disorderly then?" Steve questioned smugly to the younger officer,

"It would appear not," the man mumbled through gritted teeth, "We have Ms Connor's details, so we'll be in touch." The officers left them with a nod, heading back into their car, but remaining on the scene.

"Right then," Peter linked his arms around Carla's waist and pulled her up to her feet, "Come on love, we're going to wait over here on this bench, and then we're going to go for a little drive."

"Oh God," Carla whispered, her eyes peeking up in horror to Peter's beneath her lashes, "you're not going to drive me out to the middle of nowhere and leave me for dead are you?"

"Wha-" Peter shook his head in confusion "what?"

"You know what I mean Barlow don't play naive with me!" she poked him in the chest before stepping forward and stumbling, "Oh I don't feel so good…"

"I know you don't love, that's why we need to get you to hospital," Peter whispered reassuringly,

"Peter, do-don't be angry with me…" she stuttered shakily

"I'm not angry with you Carla," he answered softly, his arms holding her closer to his body as they slowly made their way to the bench, "this wasn't your fault love,"

_Yeah, it were yours,_ he scolded himself

She turned in his grasp so her face was mere inches from his own, "no, I mean ab-about Leanne-"

"Carla-"

"I wanted to tell- wanted to tell you, believe me–"

"I know, it's okay let's just get you to the hospital okay-"

"bu-but that's the thing int'it?" she swayed in his grasp as a sudden dizziness overtook her senses. The street began to spin around her, faster and faster…

"Carla?"

"You-you wouldn't have believed me any road-" She whispered as the world around her spun once more in double speed before flipping on its side and rushing upwards. The last thing she heard before Peter's arms halted her body from crashing into the pavement below was the loud **_"fuck" _**that escaped the bookie's lips…


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you again for the kind reviews :)**_

* * *

They'd been at the hospital now for well over an hour and a half. The moment she toppled over and lost consciousness, one officer again called 999 again for an ambulance, while the older officer assisted Peter in moving Carla to a nearby bench and onto her side. Peter covered her with his coat, and crouched in front of her, his hand resting between her cheek and the wood of the bench until the paramedics arrived some 5 minutes later. He went in the ambulance with her, whispering encouraging words, in between answering the paramedics questions, as they checked her vitals. Steve had followed in the cab, arriving in the emergency room to stand next to the bookie, along with the officers, watching the nurse check Carla's blood pressure, and administering an IV catheter into her hand as she dipped in and out of consciousness.

As she was taken into a cubicle and attended to by the nurse and doctor, Peter and Steve waited outside in the waiting room. After pacing the perimeter of the room countless times, and spending the next hour in nervous anticipation, Peter accepted that he needed a beverage of some sort to steady his nerves.

Once satisfied that his friend had calmed down considerably, Steve decided to inform him of exactly what was told to him in the pub before the officer arrived. Over a cup of water downed coffee Steve told Peter that Rory was a business associate of Carla's, and that he had set up this business mixer weeks prior...

"He said that he hadn't received an RSVP from Carla, and he only remembered that she hadn't when a Frank, something-or-other, told him he was doing business with Underworld. So Rory called her up tonight to remind her around 8ish, and I guess she decided she would go; hence calling for a cab an hour or so later." Steve said, talking a sip of his coffee, "he said she refused a drink fro the majority of the night from the lads, just drinking fizzy water and some orange juice. But around after 11 or so, he and her began talking shop, and he went to the washroom, and when he came back she had obviously caved to peer pressure and been bought and served a drink from one of the lads. He noticed her acting weird, but didn't catch on to why until the bartender told him his suspicions. Pretty lucky he was there, and not whomever slipped her one of them pills!"

Peter nodded, his fist clenching the coffee cup in his hand, as a dozen horrible images danced across his mind.

_1:37AM_

He could swear the clock on that wall was moving slowly deliberately just to torment him...

"Peter Barlow?" a voice called into the waiting room.

"Yeah, that's me," Peter stood up, throwing the empty coffee cup into the bin and standing in front of the nurse.

"If you'd like to come through now, the doctor would like to have a few words." Peter nodded, and turned to Steve who gave him a reassuring smile. He followed the nurse through the hallway and in through a curtained cubicle where Carla was now lying peacefully on a gurney; the doctor glancing at the beeping machine next to the factory boss and making scribbling notes onto the clipboard he was carrying. He turned to look at the bookie, as the nurse checked on the now half-filled IV bag.

"Mr. Barlow?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, his eyes still on Carla, "how is she?"

"Well Mrs. Connor's vitals are looking good, but her preliminary tests have concluded on traces of Rohypnol in her system. Luckily, she had no adverse reactions to the drug, and even more lucky it was discovered early on." He shook his head and sighed, before turning to Peter, "Based on the timeframe the officers provided us of when they suspected she ingested the drug, we were able to give an emetic medication to induce vomiting. We believe we may have expelled whatever she had left in her system. She's exhausted herself now though, so we've had her on IV for the past hour or so, to replenish some lost fluids. We're pretty satisfied with her recovery: her blood pressure and breathing levels are normal. All in all I would say she's was very lucky. I've seen more than my fair share of cases that did not end so well for patients. Does Mrs. Connor have someone at home that can keep an eye on her for the rest of the night? All things considered, I'm pretty satisfied that we've managed to get it all out of her system and she just needs a good night's sleep, but would prefer someone to keep an eye on her for the next 12 hours, just to ensure that she has no delayed reaction to the drug? Of course, we have no qualms about keeping her in overnight and keeping an eye on her ourselves."

"No, I can look after her." Peter responded quickly, "as long as you're sure she's okay to be released."

"I would like to get the rest of that saline solution in her first," the doctor nodded at the IV drip, "Just to counter any potential dehydration, but I'm content that she should be fine to go home after that. Provided that if there are any, and I mean any, of these adverse affects, you bring her right back."

Peter took the list from the doctor, his eyes scanning the list briefly, before stating, "will do Doctor. Can I just ask: what exactly are the effects of this drug?"

The doctor held the clipboard across his chest, "Have you ever taken a muscle relaxant Mr Barlow?" At Peter's nod, he continued, "How about anti-anxiety medication?"

Peter looked to the ground briefly, "I'm a recovering alcoholic," he stated, "I've been on Valium in order to assist with the alcohol withdrawals in the past."

The doctor nodded, "Now imagine taking a pill that is not only ten times stronger than Valium, imagine that pill also being such a potent muscle relaxant that your body becomes almost paralyzed." the doctor sighed, "There's a reason these are nicknamed "roofies": within 15-20 minutes of it entering the person's body, they start to react in much the same way we do when we've had too much alcohol; there's imbalance, slurred speech, impulsiveness, but with it also comes this almost high-like state. The person will literally feel as though they can release all their inhibitions...they figuratively 'hit the roof', and then they come crashing down."

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as the doctor continued, "the person will then enter a strong sedative state. Normally unconscious but often drifting in and out; similar to being under anaesthetic. They will have little to no memory of what occurred during their 'high'. It's like a temporary amnesia. Eventually things start to float back, and some will begin to piece things together, others are not so lucky. The amnesia effect is why it is the drug of choice for sexual predators."

The bookie just stared at the woman on the gurney, his head softly shaking in disbelief at just how close Carla had come to being a victim of a sexual crime. He felt the doctor's hand on his shoulder, gently stirring him from his thoughts, "I can assure you, Mr Barlow, that I have every confidence that Mrs Connor is making a full recovery. However, this drug can cause depression or depressive thoughts to arise, so I will impress upon you not to add to what will surely be the feelings of guilt she will have in the morning. I'm more than sure you won't, of course; you seem to care very much for her, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention it. Emotions can run quite high after this type of situation." He offered the man a half hearted smile, " A nurse will be in, in about twenty minutes to take out her IV and then we can discharge her. Have a good night, Mr Barlow."

The doctor walked out of the cubicle, and Peter slowly circled around the bed, taking a seat in the nearby chair. His eyes gazed upon Carla's profile, her head half turned away from him as she slept and a smile tugged at his lips, grateful that she was safe. There was no way he was letting her out of his sight tonight. He leaned back in the chair, taking out his phone and texting Steve,

_**Hey Steve, Doctor said they will be discharging her in about 20 minutes or so, but they want someone to keep an eye on her, so I'm going to kip at her flat tonight. **_

_**If you want to go home, I can catch a cab outside?**_

As he waited for a reply back, his eyes scanned the side effects the doctor had scribbled down for him:

_Excessive sedation_

_Ongoing impaired speech or balance_

_Convulsions or seizures_

_Amnesia spanning beyond drug interaction_

_Depression_

_Suicidal thoughts/acts_

His phone buzzed, rousing him from mulling over those last words.

_**No worries Peter. I'll drop you off at Carla's. I'm going to grab another brew and I'll wait for you both out front.**_

Peter smiled, sending a quick reply to Steve, before a soft voice grabbed his attention

"Peter?"

His eyes shot up to meet Carla's drowsy expression as she gazed upon him, confusion and exhaustion etching across her features, and he quickly moved to sit on the bed, facing her. "Hiya love, how are you feeling?"

She groaned, her eyes closing as she attempted to shift up against the pillow, "like I've got the 'angover from hell." She pressed the heel of her hand under her eyebrow, her face scrunching in discomfort, "what the hell happened...?" she croaked out quietly, before lowering her hand and fixing him with a steely look,

"...and what the hell are **_you_ **doing here?"


	6. Chapter 6

The cab pulled up to the intersection, slowing to a stop at the red traffic light. Steve nervously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing beside him to where Carla sat, her arms crossed and staring out the window beside her. His eyebrows lifted and he pressed his lips together before raising his eyes to look in the rearview mirror to settle on Peter, sitting behind him, staring at Carla with an unimpressed look on his face. Steve looked back out to the windshield, clearing his throat slightly as the light changed and the cab started moving again, "Sooo, uhhh do we need to make any stops along the way?"

The car was heavy with tension, and getting heavier as the silence dragged on.

The minute seemed to tick on forever, until Peter finally broke the silence, "Yeah, if you could find us a 24 hour off license or sommit so I could pick up these anti-nausea tablets the doctor recommended, before dropping us off at Carla's, Steve." The bookie responded, his eyes still firmly fixed on Carla

"I have anti-nausea tablets at 'ome," Carla snapped irritably, "you can just drop me off at mine Steve, and quite frankly I don't care where you drop _him_ off after that." She crossed her arms tighter across her body as she nudged her chin towards the backseat. "Send him off to Timbuktu, for all it concerns me."

Peter scowled, '_Stubborn little..._' He leaned forward in his seat, "Carla, we've already been through this at the hospital," he gritted out, "the only reason you're not still in that cubicle in A&E, is because I've agreed to look after you tonight."

"I don't**_ care_ **what you've agreed to," Carla snapped back, "I'm going home _alone_."

Steve kept his eyes firmly on the road, letting out a frustrated breath as another set of traffic lights came into his sightline, turning red as he approached them. '_I don't believe this...'_ he cursed inwardly

"No. You're. Not." Peter leaned between the two captain seats, his face furious as he stared at the profile of the argumentative woman, finding himself both wanting to throttle her and kiss her at the same time, "the doctor said you need someone to watch you in case there's any side effects from the drug you were slip-"

"I said, I'm fine!" she turned her head sharply, her eyes searing into his. "I don't need _your_ help!"

"No. You're. Not! and Yes. You. Do!" his voice was dangerously low, but she wasn't backing down

'_Please turn green, please turn green..._' Steve willed towards the light

The pair of them were totally oblivious to the cab driver's presence. The corner of Carla's mouth tugged into a smirk, and Peter couldn't help but stare at her lips. '_what I wouldn't give to kiss that mouth right now_,' he thought his tongue darting subconsciously along his lower lip.

She watched his tongue glide along his lip, and turned her body slightly, inching her head closer to his, her eyes falling to his mouth and his breath hitched in his throat.

As the car started moving again, Steve turned his head awkwardly, his brows scrunched in complete confusion and exasperation at his two passengers.

"Well then I guess you best take me back to the hospital, because you're _not_ staying at mine." She whispered, the hint of anger evident in her voice as she sat back and turned to look out the windshield, her arms folding across her chest once more.

Peter smirked and reached out to grab her chin, forcing her to look at him, "Now you listen to me, and you listen good Connor," he said evenly, "either I'm kipping at yours, or you at mine. But one way or another I _will_ be keeping an eye on you tonight if I have to drag you kicking and screaming to the bedroom and tie you to the bed posts."

'_Now that is an interesting thought..._' he smiled in spite of himself.

Carla breathed out, her eyes becoming glassy, despite her best efforts to control her emotions. She could have pulled her chin away from his grasp; his fingers after all were barely grazing it, but she couldn't for the life of her get herself to do it. The feeling of his hands on her awoke all those butterflies in her stomach that had been laying dormant. She swallowed hard, noticing the seductive look on his face shifting to a concerned one, and she finally pulled away, her eyes fixing on the road ahead, and somehow managing to hug her arms tighter around herself.

"Fine," she finally whispered.

"Good." Peter replied, leaning back in his seat, "just to Carla's then, Steve."

Steve pulled up to another intersection, his eyes closing briefly in irritation as the lights shifted to red. '_oh_, y_ou have got to be joking!_" He glanced sideways at Carla, who once again was looking out the passenger window, then back to Peter who was watching the factory boss with concern.

"Well, this is...nice." Steve stated, breaking the silence in the car.

Carla turned her head slowly to look at him, pinning him with that look of hers that sent a chill down his spine, and he felt his body inch away from her briefly before looking back in his rearview mirror to see Peter had now turned his disapproving look onto him, shaking his head his head at him.

Steve cleared his throat again, his eyes facing out towards the windshield once more, "I mean, uh, you know, under the circumstances and all..." He could still feel both sets of eyes boring into him, so he kept watching the light, praying for it to change with his mind...

Oh, what he wouldn't give to be at home dealing with the issues he was having with Becky and the £5000 fiasco right now...

* * *

Peter set up the pillow and duvet on the couch, removing his shoes and jacket and placing them near the flat door. He watched as Carla emerged from the bathroom, her face freshly cleaned and in a pair of pyjama pants and a t-shirt. Her hair had been pulled up into a messy bun, and she carried the clothes she had been wearing that day to the bedroom. After dropping off the bundle on a chair in the corner of her bedroom, she headed back towards the kitchen, her eyes looking down and avoiding the bookie, whose own followed her like a hawk.

"Still not speaking to me then?" he asked gruffly.

Carla turned on the tap, letting the water cool as she reached into one of the cabinets for a glass. She heard Peter move towards the kitchen, and she kept her back to him as she filled her glass and turned off the tap. Taking a sip she finally spun around to find him leaning against the oven.

Her eyes looked beyond him, "do you mind?" she inferred for him to let her pass

"I do, yeah" he responded, "not until you say sommit to me."

Carla sighed, her hand coming up to rub her forehead, "Peter, please. I am exhausted and just want to go to sleep." She didn't want to tell him how lightheaded she was feeling, as she tried to stand her ground against him.

Peter's eyes gazed over her, "Okay. But we do have to talk Carla, eventually," he lowered his eyes to meet hers, "agreed?"

Carla took in a shuddering breath, "yeah, agreed," she answered, her tongue running along her bottom lip, and a shaky hand reaching out to steady herself on the nearby counter.

Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, "you alright?" He asked the obvious question; he could see she wasn't.

Carla sighed, "I'm feeling a bit dizzy," she responded truthfully, "i just want to get into bed, if I'm honest."

"Okay, come on." He placed one arm around her waist, and took her glass in his free hand. He guided her into her bedroom and placed the water on the bedside table, while she kicked off her slippers. He pulled back the covers on her bed, and waited for her to climb in, covering her with the blankets once she was comfortable.

He ran a hand on the side of her head, "I'll be right outside, if you need anything, okay?" he whispered gently, and for the first time since the cab ride, she looked into his eyes. She sighed and nodded.

"Okay," he whispered, "try to get some sleep." He stood up, resisting the urge to plant a kiss on her forehead, and headed out to the living room, keeping her door open should he need to check on her throughout the night.

Carla watched him leave the room, and immediately felt a sense of dread taking over. She pushed it away as she snuggled down beneath the covers, her eyes heavy and closing within minutes...

It was the sound of material thrashing about that shifted him from his sleep. Peter tiredly glanced at the clock on the wall, _4:54AM. _He sighed and rubbed his eyes, listening intently for anymore movement from Carla's bedroom. Once a few minutes had silently passed, he repositioned himself on his back, his eyes closing once again before a bloodcurling scream emitted from the woman in the bedroom.

Peter threw the blanket off of him and dashed into the bedroom, finding Carla curled on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms curled around them. Her body was shaking and her eyes, wet with tears looked upon him in terror, "He's not gone, he's not gone...he's coming back - he's coming back for me..." she shakily whispered

Peter tentatively approached her, assuming she had not fully awoken yet, "who, love? Who is?"

"Tony..." she answered, her eyes unfocused on him, "it's Tony..." she suddenly took in a sharp breath and her head shook rapidly, coming back into consciousness. Her eyes scanned the room around her, and fell once again on Peter. Her breathing was erratic, but her body beginning to relax as she recognized him.

"Petrol. I can still smell the petrol," she whispered, "the smell was suffocating and the smoke...the smoke were choking me..." her voice croaked

"It's okay," he whispered reassuringly, climbing into the bed behind her, and wrapping his arms around her shaking body, "it was just a dream, Carla. You're safe now..."


	7. Chapter 7

Carla tentatively stepped out of her bedroom, her eyes falling to her sofa and the man who lay there, softly snoring in his sleep. She allowed herself to lean against the doorframe, standing and just watching him for a few quiet moments as the sunshine streamed in through the flat.

She had an array of emotions coursing through her when it came to that man: hurt, anger, an unbridled lust to rip his clothes off and pull him down atop her on her bed, an overwhelming protectiveness to help him through his demons, a gratefulness that he was there for her last night...

But of all the emotions, there was one that unsettled her the most. A feeling right in the pit of her stomach; the kind of feeling that made her feel giddily happy and yet nauseously sick. A feeling she hadn't felt since Liam...

_Maria!_

She quickly turned back into her bedroom, grabbing her mobile from the side table. The blonde hairdresser popping quickly into her mind gave her the opportunity to focus on something besides the man who was currently stirring awake on her sofa. She scrolled through her contacts, settling on Maria's name and pressing the call button. She kept an eye on the door as she held the phone to her, listening as the line trilled in her ear.

"Carla?" Maria's groggy voice came through, "I 'ope this isn't like a 'Devil Wears Prada' type of PA job where you're calling to ask me for coffee..."

Carla couldn't help but laugh, "Ha! If only Underworld were that glamourous! Besides I only get my coffee from Roy's, any road. But I'm sure my staff will tell you I'm more of a dragon than that Miranda Priestly woman..."

Maria chuckled, "well they are prone to be a tad overdramatic, aren't they? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, love. I'm just going to be a bit late this morning, and was wondering if you could open up for us?"

"Yeah no problem. It's actually good that you called, my alarm didn't go off and I would slept right through and been late myself. You sure everything's alright? Your voice sounds funny."

Carla swallowed, her voice was incredibly hoarse from having been induced to vomit for an hour in the hospital less than eight hours prior, "Oh yeah I'm fine," she lied, her eyes moving towards the living room and seeing Peter yawning as he came to stand in her bedroom doorway. She smirked briefly "I must of had a bad reaction to whatever Peter made last night, I spent most of the night with me head in the toilet." Peter raised his eyebrows, smirking back at her and shaking his head slightly at her white lie.

"Oh that sounds horrible! Are you sure you're alright? You sure you're up to coming in today?"

"Yeah I'll be fine, i just need a quick shower and a bit of breaky and I'll be right as rain."

"Okay, but if you change your mind give me a ring, yeah?"

"Of course, I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Okay, ta"

"Ta, love." She ended the call and looked up to the bookie. "Morning."

"Morning. How are you feeling?" he asked, entering her room and sitting next to her on the bed.

Carla looked to the ground, nodding her head before meeting his eyes again, "Yeah, a bit exhausted if I'm honest, and uhhh my throat feels really raw."

Peter's raised his hand to her back, rubbing it in small circles, "I'm not surprised. Whatever medicine they gave you must have emptied out anything you had to eat or drink over the last 48 hours," he joked, "you were on an IV drip for a while before they discharged you."

Carla chuckled, "not the most ideal way to drop a few pounds, innit?" She looked away from him, "honestly, I'm okay. I'm a bit more embarrassed than anything."

"What for?"

"I've always been so careful. It's happened once before in me life, I mean, you'd think I'd know better."

Peter's face scrunched in concern, "it's happened before?"

Carla shifted on the bed, unsure what it was about him that made her want to open up about the things she kept private from most people, but continuing to tell him anyway, "yeah, it was the day before my 22nd birthday. I were at a house party on our estate. I didn't remember drinking very much, but next thing I knew I was waking up in Paul's flat with Michelle, her boyfriend Dean, and her brothers. Michelle had gotten so drunk, they were afraid to take her home to her parents because of little Ryan, you know? And uhh, I had apparently blacked out. Liam said I were acting strange, and he called Paul to come pick us up."

Carla took a sip of her water, before continuing, "One of the guys there that knew Liam from uni, Mike, he was being overly flirty with me and getting a bit handsy, and Liam weren't having any of it;" she said, smiling fondly at the memory of Liam being so protective, "but then Michelle got sick and he went to find Dean. He took his eye off me for a split second, and when he came back I had disappeared. Apparently, Paul had already shown up at that point, and he found me upstairs, propped up against the wall, almost unconscious, with Mike trying to open the door to a locked bedroom. Liam told me he had it right out with Mike, telling him I was obviously drunk and asked what he was playing at trying to take advantage. Mike must've called me sommit insulting because Paul walloped him and carried me out of there."

"Good on Paul," Peter gritted out, the hand that was rubbing circles on Carla's back, moving to now stroke her hair.

"Yeah, we figured I must have been slipped sommit because I couldn't remember anything. I had never blacked out from drinking before, and Liam assured me I hadn't drank that much; he just assumed I hadn't eaten anything that day and it hit me faster than usual. Anyway I didn't want to go to the hospital. So I ended up staying at Paul's for the rest of the day after Liam and Michelle left; he knew my mum were useless really, so he looked after me," a smile tugged at her lips, "he bought me flowers, and a cake for my birthday. He ended up asking me out that evening; that were the second time we kissed, you know? The first was at a spin the bottle game a year earlier on his 27th birthday," she laughed, "Michelle was tipsy and wanted us to play a game like we used to in school. So she brought out this wine bottle..." she paused for a moment, "you know I think Paul set that up with her now, come to think of it. He took two spins before it landed on me, making excuses on the first two about it not counting because it were getting stuck on the carpet."

_'Smart man'_ Peter thought, his eyes drifting to her lips and remembering the kiss she planted on him last November when she confessed she had feelings for him, '_I don't blame him, one bit' _

Carla saw his look, her breath hitching slightly in her chest and she quickly stood up, "Sorry, I dunno why I went into all of that. Coffee?"

Peter stood up, "Are you sure you want to go into work today?" he asked carefully

'_No I'd rather stay here with you in that bed if I'm honest...'_ she thought, licking her lips and breathing out audibly

"Yeah, I have a big order to secure or we may be forced ever closer into liquidation." she responded evenly

Peter nodded, "Okay, well tell you what? I'll make the coffees, and you go grab a shower. And maybe we can arrange for a do-over for yesterday..."

'_You use men, Carla_,' Peter's contemptuous voice filled her head, '_You use them to feel better about yourself and to forget about Liam; and once someone else sparks your fancy, some other married bloke perhaps, you get your fill and cut them loose_.'

"I don't think that's a good idea," she responded, stepping back from him and hugging her arms around her body

Peter knew she was remembering the horrible things he said to her, "Carla, look, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean any of it, I was just trying to hurt you."

"More than you did at your wedding blessing?" she snapped suddenly, anger rushing back behind her now steely gaze.

Peter sighed, "yeah. I'm a right idiot." she shook her head, her eyes looking out of her bedroom window, "Carla, please let me make it up to you. I promise it will be an actual dinner, no games. What do you say? Tonight?"

She thought for a moment, "No, tonight's not good. I can do tomorrow?"

"You sure?" he asked cautiously

She bit her lip, "And we're going to talk? Properly talk?" At his nod, she narrowed her eyes at him, "Anymore of what happened last time Barlow, and it'll be the last I ever speak to you," She lowered her voice, "I mean it, Pe'er."

He gave her a reassuring smile, "I promise."

"Okay." she agreed, offering a lopsided smile. "I best get a wiggle on."

Peter smiled following her out to the kitchen area while she went into the bathroom. He looked at the counter, did a quick spin around, his eyes falling on this odd looking contraption that he was pretty sure he saw Leanne looking at when they were registering for wedding gifts. '_I think that thing makes coffee?_' he thought, about to call out to Carla, but hearing the shower turn on, he turned his back to look at the machine and the discs next to it.

_'well, shit...'_

* * *

"Morning, love" Carla said cheerily to Maria as she walked into the office carrying two cups of coffee from Roy's.

"Ohh so I'm Miranda Priestly now, am I?"

"Yeah, yeah don't you get used to it missus." Carla teased, handing Maria her cup and shaking off her coat. "Sorry for being late. They haven't given you too much of a problem have they?" She gestured towards the staff

"Nah, they've been alright, really." Maria began, "I had this mad dream about Frank's house." She began with a giggle, "i dreamt I couldn't find it, and when I did, all the lights were off and he had gone to bed!"

Carla laughed, "oh you'll be fine." She told her encouragingly, but suddenly feeling a sense of dread overtaking her.

She sat at her desk, watching Maria as she held up the sample Julie had made. She knew Frank had shown an interest in Maria; it was one of the reasons she initially thought sending Maria on her own would help sweeten the deal with Frank; after all, Liam had sent Carla to many client meetings for the same purpose: a bit of flirtation was harmless, after all. But Liam had put a stop to it, when a few of the clients had tried to get handsy with her, getting rough to point where she had to get up and run. She insisted to Liam it were fine, that the business was more important, with some clients anyways. Not all. He hated working with these men, knowing what they tried on with Carla, but she knew he blamed himself more for letting her go on her own.

Carla had a very different upbringing then most. There were many things that occurred to her while growing up that forced her to adapt to all kinds of uncomfortable and despicable conditions. She learned how to push everything down, put whatever occurred to her into a box and stored it away, never to be opened again. And every box she stored was like adding another brick to the wall she built around herself. She could put aside what those men tried to do to her for the better of the business, but Maria was no Carla; and to be fair, after the incident at the mixer the night before, Carla wasn't sure she was the same Carla either. It was one time too many for her, and those boxes that were piling up were starting to get top heavy...

"You know what, Maria? I think it's best if we go to Frank's together tonight." she said carefully

Maria looked at her disappointed, "do you think I'm not ready to do it on me own?" She asked clearly crestfallen

"No, no not at all. Maria, I have every faith in you. I just," she sighed, "look I just don't want to get into too many details alright? But I'm just remembering a handful of times that going on me own to a meeting wasn't the best of choices. I would just feel a bit more secure, if I were there with you, especially as you're not meeting in a public place..."

Maria nodded, a welcoming rush of relief coming over her, "Okay. As long as you're sure?"

Carla nodded. "Tag team for the win, yeah?"

"Oh hell yeah!" Maria agreed. "I can meet you at yours around 7:30ish?"

"Sounds good." Carla smiled, feeling a bit more at ease as she watched Maria turn in her chair and continued typing away at the spreadsheet on her computer.

Carla didn't think Frank was the type of man to push his luck with a woman. He'd been nothing more than a gentleman every time she'd met him in the past. Even at the mixer the night before, he was incredibly courteous and attentive to her.

But after the incident at the pub, after whomever had tried to take advantage of her by slipping something into her wine, she just couldn't take any chances of Maria getting into an unfortunate situation like she found herself in last night.

She would never forgive herself if anything happened to Liam's widow...


	8. Chapter 8

**_Thank you all for the kind words and reviews. I'm very happy to be back writing again, and pleased that I managed to find a whole number of drafts of my original stories. :)_**

* * *

The buzzer in her flat went off at 7:25PM. Carla emerged quickly from her bedroom, attaching a hooped earring to her left ear. Reaching the front door she picked up the receiver,

"Hello?"

"It's me, Carla!" Maria's voice bubbled through,

"Come up, love." Carla buzzed her in, unlocking her front door and leaving it ajar for her PA as she went into the kitchen to grab two wine glasses and placing them on the counter. As she grabbed a bottle of red and unscrewed the cap, her eyes fell to the two washed mugs on the dish drying mat next to the sink...

* * *

_Carla emerged from the bathroom, a white towel wrapped firmly around her body, and another squeezing the water out of her wet hair. She paused for a moment, suppressing a laugh as Peter fiddled with her Tassimo coffee machine. He held a disc in his hand, and was bent over in front of the counter, his hands coming up in frustration, as he tried to figure out where to put the disc, before wrongly assuming it went into the mug._

_"Want me to make it?" she asked, giggling as he jumped at the sound of her voice, his body turning as his eyes closed and he held his hand to his chest, letting out a breath. But when he opened his eyes again, he felt his chest flutter, and his pants get considerably tighter. His eyes raked over the body of the woman coming to stand beside him in the kitchen. Her skin still glistening with water from her shower, the smell of her shower gel and shampoo overpowering his senses._

_She smirked at him, knowing the effect she had on him and enjoying having the upper hand after the evening prior. She stepped close to him, her hand reaching into the mug and plucking the disc out. She held it up between their faces, her eyebrow raising slightly as she pressed the top of the machine: popping it open to reveal the brewing unit. She placed the disc in the slot, closing the top, and repositioning the mug on the cup stand. With an exaggerated flare, she indicated the start/stop button to him before pressing it, winking at him as she turned around._

_"Alright then Vanna White, and just how was I supposed to know that? Have you not heard of just having a French press?" He responded jokingly, his eyes still wandering over her towel-clad form. _

_Carla reached to the corner of the counter, turning and shaking the French press in her hand, her smirk becoming ever wider as Peter sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "Yeah, okay I didn't look very well for that..." he admitted. _

_She gave him a knowing look before putting the French press back, and taking out another mug, "you sure you're going to be able to handle the next one all on your own, while I go get dressed?" she asked teasingly. _

_He smirked at her, "I think I can manage." _

_His eyes travelled down her body again as she walked around him towards the bedroom, "you know," he called out to her, waiting as she turned back to face him before continuing, "this is the second time I've been here that you've been in nowt but a towel." He stepped closer to her, her body now turning fully towards him, "is this how you normally walk about your flat?" _

_Her eyes danced playfully, before she shook her head slightly, "No, no just on special occasions," she turned and headed to her bedroom, stopping at the door and turning mischievously back towards him, "most of the time, I walk around naked." She said seductively, flashing him a knowing smile, entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her._

_Peter chuckled, turning back to the kitchen; there was that Carla Connor sexiness he could barely resist in the past..._

* * *

"Hiya, Oh you look amazing, Carla!" Maria stated, snapping Carla out of her trance-like state, and she poured a small bit of wine in each glass, and glanced down at her outfit: a mid-thigh, soft black shift dress, with a low cut V neck that was modestly covered by stitched on detailing around the neckline, black stockings and black suede, mid-shin, high heeled boots.

"Ta, love, now give us a peek then?" Carla said, referring to the new outfit Maria had stepped out to purchase for the evening. Maria opened her coat to reveal a black strapless aline dress, with a black sheer bolero shrug, and nude high heel pumps. "Blimey!" Carla nodded appreciatively.

"Oh you don't think it's too much, you know...?" Maria asked, worryingly looking down at her outfit.

"No no not at all. Listen, I have clinched many a deal with my cleavage." Carla said with a laugh, "not that I'm expecting you to do that, of course." At Maria's perplexed look, Carla continued, "Oh Maria, stop it! You look fantastic! Here, get that down your neck." she handed Maria a mouthful of wine. "Just to steady the nerves, a bit."

"I don't know if I'll ever be as confident as you are going into meetings like this." Maria said, sipping on the wine

"Oh, trust me it took me a long time to get to this stage." Carla said, sipping on her own wine

"Nah, Liam always said you always had this confidence about you whenever you went into a meeting. Even when the two of you were close to losing the deal, you'd lay on the charm and hit it out of the park."

Carla smiled at the ground, "Yeah well, it were all part of the front, weren't it? Confident on the outside maybe, but underneath I were bricking it."

"Yeah, Liam said that and all..." Maria gave Carla a reassuring smile, "shall I ring us a taxi then?"

Carla smiled and nodded, finishing her mouthful of wine before pulling a small compact and her lipgloss out of her purse. Applying it quickly to her lips, She put the items back in her purse, and grabbed her coat off the back of the sofa. Maria put her mobile in her purse, "two minutes."

"Alright," Carla grabbed the files off the desk, "got the sample?" Maria nodded, holding up the carrier bag with Underworld's patch on it. "Good. Right, well," Carla nodded gestured towards the door, "I guess it's show time!"

* * *

Some two hours later, saw Carla and Maria sat on Frank Foster's sofa, Carla leaning over towards the wingchair where Frank was sitting leaning towards her, while Maria sat watching them go over the figures Carla had drawn up. Carla was sure that Frank was sweet on Maria, but the former hairdresser saw differently. Sure, Frank was definitely flirty with her in the office, but she also knew, having had a phone conversation about her new job at Underworld with Michelle the night before, that he also tried the same thing on with her sister-in-law. She took a sip of the wine Frank had poured them, watching the way he kept glancing up and scanning Carla's profile.

Hitting on two of Carla's PAs in the span of a month? She could understand if he had a type and couldn't help but try the same moves on both women, but her and Michelle couldn't be more different if they tried. Different hair, different body types, different personalities...Carla and Michelle were more alike, and even then, other than hair colour, they too were very different. Maria narrowed her eyes, as Carla laughed at something Frank had said, and he responded with a chuckle of his own, rubbing his hand along the skin of Carla's almost bare shoulder.

Maria had been around the block enough to know when a man was playing games: trying to make the object of his desire jealous by instead hitting on her friends...and she was more than sure that was exactly what Frank Foster was trying to do. Except tonight, his game had changed. Tonight his eyes were only on Carla.

'_I wonder why?'_ she thought suspiciously. She looked at the man before her. He wasn't a bad looking guy; seemed pleasant enough, funny at times, successful, and most importantly, not Peter flamin' Barlow. Maybe Carla just needed a nudge...

She cleared her throat, "uhh sorry Frank, but I was wondering if I could use your washroom?"

"Oh, of course," Frank responded, "down the hall, second door on your right."

Maria smiled as she stood up, placing the glass on the side table, "be back in a tick."

Carla smiled after her, before turning back to the order figures.

"Top up?" Frank asked, holding the bottle of red towards her glass.

"Um no, I shouldn't." She responded carefully; she was craving it for sure, but she was trying to keep her promise to herself to cut down.

Frank sat back in his chair, leaning very close to the factory boss, "because of last night...?"

Carla's head shot up, her eyes meeting his. "What about last night?"

Frank looked gently into her eyes, "At the mixer," he said, "I was worried about you, you know? You must have kicked back a few too many glasses too quickly. You were pretty umm free-spirited."

Carla swallowed, her face losing some of its colour. "How do you mean?" she asked quietly. '_Oh flaming hell Connor, how much of show did you make of yourself...'_

Frank smiled and leaned ever closer to her, "well, you were talking to Rory, and then you went to make a phone call. And when you came back, you came up to me in a rather flirtatious mood, and you winded up asking me out to dinner."

Carla looked momentarily horrified, "I did what?" '_No, that's not possible. I wouldn't have, would I?' _

Frank chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, "hey it's okay, I totally get that you were a little inebriated and probably don't remember."

Carla dropped her head in hands, Frank smirking at her as she did so, "Oh this is so embarrassing." she muttered. She ran her fingers through her hair, sitting up slowly and pressing her lips together. "Look, Frank-" she began, about to tell him the truth about the 'roofie'

"Look, I just thought, drunken mistake or not, maybe it would be a great time to finalize the contract and maybe get to know each other a bit more as well since we'll be working closely the next few months," he watched her eyes, knowing the wheels in her head were spinning. He knew how much this contract meant to her business; she wouldn't be able to back out of a dinner with him if it meant him signing on the dotted line, "I mean, unless this is just a habit of yours: getting inebriated at work events and flirting up potential clients to keep your business afloat."

Carla stared at him, her eyes starting to harden as her walls came back up, '_Oh, I could swing for him right now_,' she thought, '_if it didn't mean losing his business_.'

Frank let out a chuckle, placing his hand on her back supportingly, "Oh Carla, I'm sorry, I were only taking the mick! I just, I love how easily I can banter with you; I should have realized it was too soon to make a joke about it, I'm sorry it was in poor taste." he apologized

Carla shook her head, allowing a smile to grace her features, "No sorry, I were just taken off guard." She scratched at an itch that didn't exist beside her nose, "Look, I'm a woman of my word. If I asked you out to dinner, then dinner it is."

Frank smiled, "Tell you what, let's make it a little less formal. How's about we go to that charming pub on Coronation Street. They serve food there, don't they?"

Carla nodded, "Yeah, Betty makes one hell of a hotpot as well." she chuckled

"Sounds great. How's about tomorrow?"

Carla shook her head, remembering her rescheduled dinner with Peter, "I can do Friday?"

"Friday it is!" Frank exclaimed, quite pleased with himself as Maria came back into the room and Carla's mobile pinged.

"Sorry about that, did I miss anything?" Maria asked as Carla reached for her phone.

"Well, I've decided to move forward with the order." Frank said proudly, smiling at Maria before glancing back at Carla who was looking at her phone, a genuine smile spreading across her features, and he felt a pang of jealousy.

_**Just checking in to make sure you're feeling better.**_

_**And that we're still on for dinner at mine tomorrow?**_

_**I promise I won't go around in a towel. Wouldn't want to infringe on your style...**_

_**Peter**_

Carla smiled at the text, deciding it best to reply once she was out of Frank's place, instead using the mobile to call for a cab and hearing Maria respond to the news of the order going through

"Oh that's great news! You won't be sorry, Frank!"

Frank kept his eyes on Carla, waiting for her to hang up the call and meet his gaze, smiling when she did, "Oh I know I won't be. Carla and I will be finalizing the contract over dinner on Friday evening."

"Oh, will you now?" Maria smirked, raising an eyebrow at them both.

"Yeah," Carla responded rather awkwardly, "well I'll draw up the contract tomorrow and have it all ready for Friday then." She grabbed her files and stood up, "There's a cab around the corner, Maria. So it should be here in a few minutes. Thanks for your hospitality Frank, and I'm glad we'll be doing business with you!" She held out her hand, and he rose to his feet, taking her hand in his and shaking it.

"Thank you Carla," he leaned in suddenly planting a kiss on her cheek, "I look forward to Friday."

Carla nodded, turning her back to Frank and gesturing to Maria to get up. In the foyer, Frank helped Maria and Carla into their coats, closing the door as their cab sped off down the road, and the smile slipped off his face.

He knew Carla didn't drink too much the night before. He used her fogginess about the night before to lie about her asking him out to dinner. Frank chuckled to himself.

_Of course that's not how it happened._

He knew she had something slipped in her drink. After all, he had been the one to do it. Not because he planned on assaulting her when she was unconscious. No, no. He planned on being her saviour. Taking her back to his, looking after her, gaining her confidence...so that when he did eventually ask her out, he would have already laid the groundwork as a man she could, ironically, trust.

But no, Rory had to intervene; and even then, just when he thought he could still step in and be the hero, that man showed up. That Peter bloke: the one who had embarrassed Carla at his wedding blessing two weeks earlier, calling her out for trying to bed him while his bride was playing away with her ex. Frank smirked, remembering the conversation with Julie and Sean a the Rovers when Carla failed to show up for their meeting; her 'loyal' workers more keen to gossip about her than anything, and did they ever give him an insight into the factory boss's life the past few years.

He wondered if it was him that texted Carla. If it was him that put that beautiful smile on her gorgeous face.

_No matter,_ he thought, _I will win her in the end. I always get what I want..._


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Thank you everyone for the kind reviews, once again. **_

_**I have re-written Chapter 4, as I was really not happy with it, and wanted to write in a funnier exchange between Carla, Peter, and Steve. I ended up finding the original chapter I wrote years back, and decided to merge the old and new together.**_

_**I also updated Chapter 5 a bit to reflect the changes as well.**_ _**:)**_

* * *

The following evening, a now nervous Peter buzzed Carla up to his flat. He wanted a complete redo of their disastrous dinner two nights ago, starting with the food itself. So once again, he had ordered some Thai takeaway, but this time set up the flat a little more romantically than he had the first night. He still had a proposition for her to start a casual relationship with him, and he really hoped she would accept, but much of the anger and lust for revenge that had fueled his original proposal had now dissipated.

He was no longer convinced she was just a manipulative temptress: a damaged woman who dealt with her fair share of love and loss that made her cold and selfish. Made her a woman who would dump her best friend for a chance to bed her fiancée for nothing more than bragging rights. For the opportunity to say that she could. To prove to herself that she could get any man she desired until she tired of him and moved on to her next victim.

He no longer viewed her as the black widow he was convinced she was when he invited her up to his flat two nights ago.

He managed to lift that clouded veil of anger he had over him when it came to her after the incident at her business mixer. After he saw her at her weakest physically, and then emotionally as he held her and coaxed her back to sleep following her nightmare.

When she arrived in his flat, it was like they had fallen into their banter of old. She seemed very content and at ease, and perhaps that was because he knew she had put her walls up again. Perhaps trying not to let him in too close after already seeing so much.

He couldn't deny he loved their back and forth. Her sarcastic responses as quick as his own. That giggle she had when she was being overly flirty. He couldn't help the smile that kept tugging at his lips as he watched her so relaxed.

He still couldn't see himself getting involved with someone so quickly after the fallout of his marriage. But he wanted her. He needed her. And he hoped that by proposing this casual arrangement, that she wouldn't run for the hills...

"I take it you didn't make this from scratch again, then?" she wrinkled her nose humourously as her finger poked the aluminum tray in front of her.

Peter chuckled, "I didn't think the best way to start rekindling our friendship would be by giving you food poisoning, and making you have to go into hospital twice in one week."

"Oh I don't know," she says rather seductively, "could've 'ad its advantages…"

"Is that right?" he asked pausing momentarily as he took in the sight of her bent forward over the counter and smiled

"Mmmm," she nodded, "I mean it really does depend on your nursin' skills though, especially as I can't seem to remember much from a few nights ago save for my being angry that I needed looking after... So tell me Mr. Barlow, are you more of the 'here's some tablets, I'll leave you to it' kind, or do you actually prefer drawing baths, giving backrubs and tucking in your patients, you know, being incredibly attentive like?" she purred, biting her lip and gazing up at him through her long eyelashes

_'Fuck that's sexy,'_ he felt a heat spreading through him and couldn't resist flicking his tongue along his bottom lip as he too leaned on his elbows to face her,

"Well, I 'ave been told," he said plucking a perfectly cut half of a spring roll from one of the trays and raising it to her lips, "that my bedside manner is impeccable…"

She smirked at him and shook her head in amusement before seductively taking the spring roll in her mouth and biting down on a morsel, moaning with pleasure at its taste. Peter felt his cock twitch in his pants as he watched her run her thumb along the corner of her mouth, catching the small crumbs left behind by the flaky pastry before sucking them off.

_'Ice water, ice water, cold shower, cold shower…'_ he mumbled in his mind as he popped the remainder of the spring roll half into his mouth and stood back upright.

"Come on, let's dig in before this gets cold eh?" he stated grasping the heated plates in his hands and maneuvering around the counter towards the dining room table.

'Well this looks delicious," Carla complimented, sitting down in the chair he pulled back for her, "oh ever the gentleman," she teased, as he pushed her chair in a little closer to the table.

He didn't know where the surge of lust came from, but it just overpowered his senses. Before he could stop himself, his hand sharply covered hers on the table, splaying it flatly upon the tablecloth almost to the point of being painful. She could feel his hot breath as it moved between the strands of hair falling down her back and noted that he was bending down, almost hovering above her.

He gently swiped her hair to one shoulder and placed a gentle suckling kiss upon her smooth neck. He heard the table move courtesy of her knee, knowing she jolted in surprise to his unexpected seduction and he smiled against her skin as he continued his assault on her neck, suckling and kissing with more perseverance as he made his way to just behind her ear. She exhaled deeply as his tongue flicked the sensitive flesh behind the lobe before grasping it between his teeth, drawing a heedy gasp from her in the process.

"I may be a lot of things Carla," he whispered as his tongue traced the outer edges of her ear while his other hand gently brushed along her cheek, feeling her melt into his caresses, "but 'gentle', definitely doesn't come to mind with what I 'ave in store for you…" His lips continued to glide effortlessly around her throat, laying soft kisses in their wake as he searched for her pulse point.

"Peter…"

Her voice had hit a lower register, a barely audible whisper that certainly would have not reached his ears had they not been so close to her mouth. But her calling his name in that delectably throaty hum of hers caused him to smile against her soft skin in pure ecstasy.

He was so bloody aroused by her physical responses, and no longer confident that he would be able to control himself for the remainder of the night. He knew he had to pull back, to put distance between their highly receptive bodies before they reached the point of no return, but there remained that niggling little doubt in the back of his mind that she was no longer interested. He just needed reassurance that she was still as attracted to him as he was to her and was unable to contain the flutter that resonated deep within him when he found his target: the throbbing vein in her throat that now pulsed at a rapid speed against his moist lips.

But in his current euphoria, Peter failed to register the concerned undertone in her voice when she called to him. Her body was responding to him of its own accord, so much so that she pressed her thighs together in an effort to both quash the rising heat pooling between her legs, and to offer her some sort of relief from her building arousal. Though her heart chastised her to just let go to this man whom she both loved and lusted for, her brain flashed images of the last time she had given up control and allowed herself to be seduced by a man she loved…

**_"__You've got to go," she mumbled against his lips, trying half-heartedly to push him away but he ignored her plea and pulled her face back towards his own, his lips descending upon hers once again, "I'm serious Liam!" She stated more forcefully, succeeding in pushing him away ever so slightly. "Don't look at me like that," she implored him hoarsely_**

**_"__Do you ever stop giving orders?" He asked with a smile, his hands falling from her face and caressing her body possessively towards his own so she could feel his arousal_**

**_She moaned and gasped at the contact, her swollen lips instinctively moving closer to his, her eyes glazing over with lust and desire, "I'm trying to be strong for us both," she tried to reason with him_**

**_'__why now? I can't be slighted by you Liam, not again…' her mind screamed _**

**_Liam's hands moved back up to cup her face, his lips finding hers again and erotically capturing her top lip between his with a passion that burned straight through to her core, yet somehow she found the strength to push away again._**

**_"__Why are you doing this?" she pleaded with him..._**

"What?"

Her eyes flew open. She was back in Peter's flat, her eyes now looking into the bookie's concerned ones.

"Wh-what?" she stuttered uncertainly

Peter's brown eyes continued to bore into hers as he dropped to his knees beside her chair. He had stopped his caresses the moment he felt her tense up. The fingers he kept firmly under his hand began to tremble so profoundly upon the table that the bottle of mineral water itself began to shake. He had no idea what would provoke such a response but worry overtook him and he shifted to get a better view of her face. "You said 'Why are you doing this?'" he answered quietly, "and it sounded almost," he swallowed hard as he tried to form the description properly, "pained."

Embarrassment flooded through her and she visibly slouched in her chair. _'Great move Car,'_ she berated herself, _'God, he must think I'm a right nutter now!'_ She could feel the tears beginning to form and hurriedly freed her hand from Peter's now gentle grasp, excusing herself as she made way to the bathroom.

Peter watched as she shut the door behind her before closing his eyes and bowing his head. '_What the hell was that about?_' he thought in confusion. He'd never seen her react like that- no…no that was a lie. He had seen her resort into an embarrassed shell of herself once before…

**_"__Otherwise I'd 'ave bit your arm off."_**

**_"__Yeah yeah," she sighed dismissively sitting down on her chaise and slumping forward defeatedly, "nuff said." _**

**_"__Your very smooth toned arm. I've got eyes you know. You're beyond gorgeous; you're off the scale!'_**

That night seemed so long ago now. So much had occurred to the both of them since she first admitted her attraction to him; the first time she had placed her soft lips deliciously upon his only to have him respond for a second then push her away. He remembered how she hid her face behind her hands, ashamed of the way she recklessly threw caution to the wind when she really had no intention of doing so. And now she practically reacted the same way as he recklessly attempted to seduce her.

How could he have been so careless? With a sigh he rose to his feet and, with a final longing look towards the bathroom, turned and began cleaning up the overturned salt and pepper shakers that had fallen over when Carla's knee made contact with the underside of the table. _'She's probably coming up with an excuse to leave now,' _his conscience berated him, _'so much for the whole make her feel comfortable malarkey before proposing your indecent intentions eh Barlow? You ponce!' _ Scoffing at the voice in his head, the bookie sat down in the chair opposite of where Carla had been sitting moments earlier, and began working on his apology and the reasons why she should stay.

Carla stood with her back pressed against the bathroom door for minutes simply trying to catch her breath. She would be lying if she said she wasn't blown away by the events that just occurred at the bookie's dining room table. Sure when she first accepted his dinner invitation that night in the Rovers, she had been hoping to clear the air, and possibly reignite some harmless flirting, allowing it to grow over the next few weeks as they saw each other in the street while he settled back to a somewhat normal routine following his disaster of a blessing.

_But this…_

She swallowed hard. She hadn't expected him to take control like he did tonight, and her loosing herself to his ministrations only fueled her anxious state. After the night of her dress fitting, the night Liam succeeded in garnering the control in their mutual attraction for each other, she vowed never to give up the reins again. When she was in driver's seat, everything was contained: her emotions were restricted, her heart firmly guarded. But when Liam had taken control she lost herself to her vulnerability, her heart and body lay open for him to do as he pleased. Once she remembered there were more than just the two of them involved in their affair, she had been able to garner some of her self-control back until she could make a sensible choice.

But not enough…

Not _nearly_ enough…

No. No matter how hard she tried, she was unable to make a rational decision regarding her and Liam following that night. And that is why on her hen night, following some gentle prodding from the 'voice of reason' Leanne, she finally decided to end the war between her head and her heart and follow the latter, for the first time in a long time, to the man she loved more than life itself. But once again her lack of control had ended in her heartbreak. Maria was pregnant; and no matter how much he may have denied it, Carla knew that the moment he found out, Liam would have remained with the hairdresser and played happy families while she fell seeped into a depressive state at having her heart tossed so viciously aside by him again. The events that followed only added to the tragedy of the situation, and would serve as a not so subtle reminder that while she was in control of her emotions, it was Tony who had controlled their future. She had foolishly taken her eye off the ball, too infatuated with the possibility of being with Liam for the rest of her life to notice that her insanely jealous fiancée had moved the goalposts. Something she promised would never happen again.

When her feelings for Peter surfaced, she tried desperately to just remain friends with him, even after shamefully throwing herself at him and having him softly reject her advances. But when she had found out about Nick and Leanne's sordid affair, she found herself vying for Peter's affections with much more vigor than even she had ever anticipated. When it all came out in the open following the tram crash, she knew what Leanne, Nick and Peter must have thought of her, and it was easier for her to let them believe it. It was less messy to let them think that she was a homewrecking slut than to open her chest and divulge the real reason.

After all, only one other person knew the truth now...

And _she_ had voiced her concern about this so-called dinner that night in the Rovers, before kissing Carla's cheek and heading back to her flat above Audrey's salon.

Carla took a deep, steadying breath, and pushed herself away from the door. In the flat she could hear Peter shifting around, most likely settling back into his chair. _'Or maybe he's so turned off at your reaction that he's out there right now making excuses on how to end this farce of a night early. Frigid cow,'_ her mind scolded her. She wondered if that pesky voice in her head was right,; had she ruined possibly her last chance to be with Peter? Would that be the last time she felt his supple lips on her skin? His stubble soft yet rough as it glided under her jaw, his fingers masterfully caressing her cheek, his breath hot against her ear...

She quickly turned on the cold tap and stuck her wrists under the cold water in an effort to quash her ever growing arousal. She was loosing control again, and in her heart she knew she needed to leave before she lost herself entirely, and yet she was unsure if she could do it. Turning off the tap and drying her hands, she exhaled deeply and stepped back into the flat.

Peter looked up as Carla stepped back into the main room and could immediately sense that she was on edge. Her fingers were knotted and she shifted nervously from foot to foot, her eyes briefly resting on the door. _'She's gonna bolt Barlow,'_ his conscience chided him, _'if you're going to convince her to stay now would be the time…'_

"Carla," he began slowly, as she turned her head to look at him, "look I am so-"

The door to the flat opened sharply, and Carla jumped back in shock as Simon came barreling into the flat, Ken at his heels, slamming the door shut behind him. Peter and Carla let out a breath of relief, both shocked they didn't hear their footsteps coming up the stairs seconds earlier.

"Si?" Peter asked softly, "What are you doing here?" he looked inquisitively at his dad, whose eyes were looking between him and a now timid looking Carla curiously.

"Simon wasn't feeling very well," Ken responded, his hands resting on Simon's shoulders, as the young boy kept looking at Carla.

Peter dropped to his knee in front of Simon, "What's the matter, mate? Have you got a tummy ache?"

Simon shook his head, his eyes now on the ground

"I think he's missing, Leanne." Ken whispered and Peter sighed. He knew this was going to happen at some point.

"Si, why don't you go to your room and get changed and I'll come see you in a bit, yeah?" Simon nodded to his dad. He turned and gave his grandad a hug, and gave a small wave to Carla who waved back, before dashing into his room.

"Thanks Dad, I appreciate it." Peter said, standing up.

"Well, I'm sorry for interrupting your evening," Ken responded, his eyes shifting to Carla curiously once again, "but I thought it best he come back here tonight. He wasn't settling at all at ours."

"No, no that's fine, it's best he stops here when he's like that." Peter said, as Ken nodded, heading towards the door

"Yeah, I should probably go meself," Carla said, grabbing her purse off the nearby chair, as Ken and Peter both turned to look at her,

"No," Peter said hurriedly, "no Carla, please, ummm, look just stay for a bit until we can have a proper chat." She licked her bottom lip, her eyes glancing about the apartment, "please?" he pleaded with her, and she looked into his eyes for a moment, before lowering her eyes to the ground and nodding.

Ken slowly turned his gaze back to his son, smirking and raising his eyebrow knowingly, "Well I'll best be off, have a good night, then. It was nice seeing you again, Carla."

"You too, Ken." she smiled kindly and he turned and left the flat. His footsteps echoed down the stairs; leaving Peter and Carla alone in the room once more, in a deafening silence that hung heavily in the air for several minutes, before Carla finally cleared her throat.

"Pet-"

"Is that Thai food?" Simon asked as he came around the corner in his pyjamas and climbed onto a chair at the table, "can I 'ave some dad? Grandma Dierdre had made stew and I really don't like stew."

Peter looked at Simon, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head in a mix of admiration and frustration at his young son, before looking back at Carla who herself was suppressing a chuckle

"Of course you can have some, Si. Go on and wash up and I'll fix you a plate, okay?" Peter responded

Simon turned to Carla, "You're Leanne's friend aren't you?"

Carla's eyes widened slightly in shock at his question, unsure how to respond, "Uhh, yeah" she answered awkwardly.

'_well, you used to be..._' she chastised herself

"You're staying too, aren't you?" Simon asked her, jumping off of his chair and standing right in front of her, his head tilted all the way back as he looked up at her and waited for a reply

Carla inhaled, "ohh, uhh" she furrowed her brows together as she looked down into his pleading eyes, "I don't think so, Simon, I don't want to intrude on yours and your dad's time."

"No please stay!" Simon whined, taking both the adults by surprise, "we can all watch a movie after."

Peter raised his eyebrow at Carla, whose deer-in-headlight look met his gaze, and he gave her a supportive wink. When she was still at a loss for words, he decided to answer for her, "Sure she will, Si. But only if you go and wash up!" he growled playfully, his hand reaching forward and giving his son's hair a quick rub, before playfully shoving him towards the bathroom.

Carla watched as Simon disappeared in the bathroom, before turning back to Peter, who had now come to stand right in front of her. "Peter, I don't think this is a great idea..." Her words trailed off as his fingers gently grasped her chin, his thumb softly caressing her bottom lip.

"Please, Carla," he whispered, his warm eyes boring into hers, "Look, if you really want to go, I won't force you to stay, but" he swallowed and brought his hand up to cup her cheek,

"But, what? Pe'er?" Carla whispered back, her voice heavy as her eyes flitted from his lips to his eyes,

"I don't want you to go..."


	10. Chapter 10

There they sat, on his sofa after having finished their dinner, the faint sounds of the end of the movie _Ratatouille _echoing through the flat, with Simon asleep and cuddled into his side, and Carla curled up on the opposite side of him: her back pressing into the armrest, her knees drawn up in front of her, and cuddling a pillow to her chest while the side of her body and head rested on the back of the sofa.

He couldn't help but smirk when Simon had pulled her by the hand away from where she was helping clean up in the kitchen, to the sofa, telling her how much she was gonna LOVE this movie. She chuckled as she had slipped off her boots, and tucked into the sofa, Simon plunking down next to her. Peter handed her a steaming mug of coffee, and handed his son a mug of hot chocolate. Carla looked playfully at Simon's mug, commenting on how many marshmallows he had, and he picked one out and tossed it into her mug.

"Hey!" she teased as she playfully poked him with her foot, "that is sacrilege, mister! marshmallows and coffee do not mix," she joked as she picked up the marshmallow and placed in into her mouth.

Simon scrunched up his nose, "Glad I'm not an adult!" he stated, "I wouldn't want to have a hot drink that I couldn't have marshmallows in." Carla and Peter had both snickered at his response before settling in to watch the movie.

Around the thirty-five minute mark, when Linguini opened his shirt to find his chest covered in bites from the rat Remy, and letting out screams of frustration, Carla began laughing unabashedly, genuine tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Simon looked up at her giggling before turning back to the TV. Carla put a hand over her mouth as she tried to suppress the laughing fit, almost embarrassed that she let her 'ice queen' exterior melt in front of them and yet unable to stop smiling. She had glanced at Peter, who was smirking, his eyebrows raised at her, and she finally spoke between chuckles, "Sorry," she breathed out, her hand still covering her mouth, "oh, it just reminds me of my Paul," she started laughing again, "whenever he'd get really frustrated like, he'd do that sort of shocked kind of scream, then this one really frustrated one." She laughed again, bringing her fingers up to dab at the corners of her eyes.

Peter shook his head as she drew her legs up in front of her, and he couldn't quite take in just how relaxed she was, and how natural it felt. Smiling to himself, he too continued watching the movie, laughing at Carla's snide remark about how even a rat could cook better than she could and how the movie really seemed to be intentionally rubbing it in.

An hour later, and Peter was now just staring at her sleeping face. She looked so content and peaceful, and he simply watched as her chest rose and collapsed softly with each breath.

He still couldn't quite believe she was in his flat.

Carla: the woman who had enchanted him since October the year before; the woman he had rejected on two distinct occasions prior to the tram crash; the woman who had quite literally backed off of him following that horrific accident, and had been nothing more than a supportive friend and confidante when he fell quite spectacularly off the wagon.

But that hadn't stopped him from publicly feeding her to the proverbial wolves that day in February…

_"…but I won that fight, I would have been faithful, isn't that right Carla?"_ he shuddered visibly as that day flashed through his mind again. He could still hear himself call to her in the church, taking everyone by surprise, except for himself…

…and **her**.

He had seen it in her body language; the way she had sat hunched over almost hugging herself as he exposed the affair. She knew it was only a matter of time before he would turn on her as well, and she had been right. He had already called out Leanne and Nick's infidelity and the fact that Ken and Dierdre had both known about it and had attempted to keep it hidden from him, preferring that he live in ignorant bliss for the sake of his son.

But it was Carla's betrayal that had cut the deepest. Despite only knowing each other for a short time, they had shared a deep bond in recent months; an understanding that he didn't have with his family, his friends, not even Leanne. He was attracted to her, he even admitted as much to her the night she confessed her feelings for him following the Joinery's opening night. He continued to be there for her, helping her through with her drinking problems, and being there supportively when her license was suspended for driving under the influence.

As the weeks passed though, the calls from her became rather frustrating; not because he found her annoying, but because he couldn't deny his growing attraction for her. The more time he spent with her, the harder he continued to fall for her. She didn't see him the way others did. She saw him as her confidante…her hero. She needed him. And to him that was a refreshing and reassuring feeling…to be needed; especially by a woman who appeared to need no one, who came off so strong and independent. But he had seen her vulnerability first hand. He had heard how much she suffered through the years and how difficult it was to continue to wear her façade to the world: '_the tough cookie. The loud mouth with a dirty giggle_.' And try as he might, he couldn't help but be pulled towards her. He wanted to protect her, to care for her…

…But he had loved Leanne, of that he had convinced himself.

But as he mulled things over late at night in his flat in the days that followed his wedding blessing, he started to question why it was the discovery that Carla had known about Leanne's infidelity from the get go that wounded him the deepest. If she had really meant nothing more than a friend to him, he wouldn't have felt the urge to disgrace her in public; to make her feel as embarrassed and humiliated as he did. But her betrayal had cut him straight to his heart, and he couldn't resist lashing out at her…

_"Yeah, Leanne's best mate there…crackin' lookin' bird, I think you'll all agree! But a lot like my best man as it transpires." He could see her struggling to contain her emotions, staring at a spot on the back of the pew ahead of her as she tried her best to conceal the tears that lined her hauntingly beautiful green eyes; and yet her meekness egged him on, further propelling his anger and rage,_

_"You see while me and this tart were planning our wedding, Carla was doing her damndest to get me into bed. Told me she loved me no less, loved me!" He nearly stopped as their eyes connected, the quizzical look in her eyes as he revealed that he had in fact heard her heartfelt confession at his bedside in the hospital; but his anger at them all, at Leanne, Nick, his father, his step-mother, and at **her**, urged him onwards, "in fact she 'loved' me so much that when she found out about these two she kept quiet an' all! Secretly hoping I'd tweak it meself and come running to her. Well as you can see Carla, I'm not running anywhere…"_

_He watched with a mixture of satisfaction and regret as she hurriedly stood up and strode out of the church, trying to keep up her façade in place to those in the church, but her stifled sniffles had given away her true emotions. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel guilty about it, but he was too proud and stubborn to admit it._

But now here they both were: her, single and him, separated. Both seated comfortably on the sofa in his flat, both starting to feel more at ease with each other since his wedding blessing. Simon hadseemed to take to her well, having nudged her a few times during the movie when she tried to suppress a giggle, and she instinctively reached out and rubbed his hair affectionately.

Carla mumbled in her sleep, her arms hugging the pillow to her more as she relaxed further into the sofa. Peter quietly stood up, swooping down and picking up his slumbering son. As silently as he could, he carried Simon into his bedroom, pulling back the comforter and setting him down, before pulling them back up and tucking him in. With a kiss to his forehead he turned off the small nightlight beside his bed, and pulled the door closed.

Walking back into the main room, he stopped and leaned against the doorframe, simply watching as Carla continued to doze on the sofa. He didn't have the heart to wake her, not even for them to finally have a talk, but he knew she would do her back in sleeping like that. He walked around the sofa, bending and leaning on his elbows on the back, while his hand gently stroked her hair, "Carla?" he whispered and she moaned in her sleep, an arousing sound, that had him licking his lips enticingly. He tried again, "Carla, love?"

"Mm Peter..." she moaned softly.

His lips tugged into a smile, and without hesitating he leaned forward, his lips gently capturing hers. Within seconds her eyes fluttered open and she pulled back briefly. His eyes were filled with lust as they gazed into hers, no longer able to contain the attraction he had felt for her over the past months.

She bit her lower lip, and he could see she was trying to determine if she was awake or still dreaming, before leaning up and kissing him again. The softness of her kiss becoming more passionate, more desperate.

Peter climbed over the back of the couch, his body shimmying down to lie between her and the cushions of the settee, his hands cupping her face as he deepened their kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth and smiling against her lips as she groaned pleasurably against him. His hand slid down to her lower back pulling her flush against him so she felt his arousal. She broke free of their kiss and gasped, his arousal rubbing pleasurably against the seam of her jeans between her legs. He smirked at her reaction, using her shock to use his free hand to pull her hair back, his lips littering kisses along her now exposed neck.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her pelvis grinding against his, until she unleashed a sexy growl, her hands grasping his face and pulling it up from where his tongue was swirling the base of her collarbone, and crashing her lips against his again.

He pulled away suddenly, rising to his feet and pulling her with him; he had to continue this in the bedroom, not wanting to risk his son coming out and catching them in an uncompromising position. She paused for a moment as he tugged her towards his bedroom, unsure if this was the right decision.

He felt her hesitate and stepped in front of her, his arm circling her waist, while the other cupped her cheek. "If you want to stop, we'll stop," he whispered, he rubbed his nose along hers, "I've wanted to be inside you since that night in your flat after the Joinery's grand opening," he said truthfully, "but we both had too much baggage then." His fingers ran through her hair gently before coming back to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing along her lower lip, "But we're both free of that now, and I so desperately want to fuck you senseless Carla Connor..." he captured her bottom lip and suckled on it briefly before pulling back, "but only when you feel ready. I've waited since then, I can wait as long as it tak-"

She launched forward, her arms wrapping around his neck as she devoured his lips. He spun her around, walking her backwards until they reached his bedroom, him closing the door with his foot and twisting the padlock. Pulling away from her briefly he turned on the iPod that was docked in a player, allowing some music to fill the room, "Don't want Simon hearing anything." He whispered as he stepped in front of her again,

Her face fell as her hands pressed hesitantly against his chest, "Oh Peter, maybe this isn't such a good idea..."

"Shhh," he brought a finger up to her plump lips, "trust me, he is out to the world," he whispered as his fingers trailed down and slide between her legs, "you just may have to suppress your urge to scream, Carla." his hand rubbed the seam of her jeans against her, and she pressed her forehead into his, letting a moan of pleasure slip out between her lips, "can you do that, love?" he asked quietly, "can you contain your screams for me?"

Her lips pressed against his hungrily. She couldn't resist him anymore if she tried. She had been waiting, dreaming of this moment since October. That niggling little voice in her mind warned her that she would get hurt in the end; that he was just rebounding from Leanne and that she would end up being cast aside. But her body was responding of its own accord; responding to his hands as they slid up and under her shirt. If she was going to be his rebound than she was going to ensure that it was the best sex they ever had in their lives.

She would worry about her emotions afterwards...

He felt her skin break into goosebumps beneath his fingertips as they reached the mounds of her breasts. He smiled against her lips, hearing her moan in pleasure as he teased the flesh.

He pushed her back towards the bed, until she sat down on the mattress. He unzipped her jeans and pulled them off her, dropping them to the ground below. Smiling coyly at him, she reached her fingers into the hem of his pants and pulled him towards her so he stood as close to her as possible. Without removing her eyes from his she began to unbutton and unzip his jeans, her hands deftly pushing the denim down his body before tracing her delicate fingers back up his thighs, as his hands stroked her hair. She eyed his boxers, focusing on the bulge that pressed against the material anxiously. Raising an eyebrow, her fingers continued to trail up his body and slipped under his cotton t-shirt; she pushed it upwards, rising to her feet as it neared his shoulders and pushing it up and over his head in one swift movement before throwing it dismissively onto the floor.

Wasting no time, he tugged at her shirt, pulling it up and over her and unclipping her bra and flinging it across the room before pulling her head towards his, pressing an almost bruising kiss to her lips, deepening it as he felt her encircle her arms about his neck. Releasing a groan he lowered his hands down her back, over the curve of her bum and grasped her thighs. With a tug he had lifted her off the ground and onto her back on the mattress, her legs wrapping themselves about his hips tightly as he moved one arm up to encircle her back while the other tangled itself amongst her hair at the back of her head, pushing her head ever closer to his.

As her groin pressed against his bare abdomen, he gave another groan as he felt the extent of her desire through the heat and dampness that had soaked her satin knickers. He ground against her, feeling her dig her nails into his neck and shoulder as she continued to kiss him feverishly. He unwrapped her legs and slid down her body, his fingers looping around the hem of her knickers and pulling them down her smooth legs with him. He glanced up at her as she lay sprawled on the bed, her eyes were wild and wet with desire and he trailed one hand back up her leg and held her hip firmly in place. She leaned her head back against the mattress, her eyes fluttering closed in anticipation and her body jolting in delight as she felt his lips lay a multitude of gentle kisses up her thigh, hovering dangerously close to her centre. He smiled at the reaction and moans he was emitting from her, and nudged her legs open a little further as he ran his tongue over her clit, flicking and circling it and enhancing her pleasure.

"Oh God…" she moaned breathlessly, one hand gripping the sheets above her as the other grasped the back of his head. She pushed her hips out towards him, encouraging him to continue to pleasure her. She couldn't believe this was happening, her eyes pricking with tears, as she edged closer to an orgasm. She quietly moaned his name.

He was wanting to tip her over the edge with his tongue but upon hearing her murmur his name breathlessly, he could no longer contain himself. Rising to his feet, he pushed his boxers down and stepped out of them, before crawling on the bed over her.

"I've been waiting for this," he whispered into her ear, as his one hand trailed the underside of her thigh, encouraging her to wrap it around his hip while he held her hand above her head, "too long Carla," With a swift move of his hips, he pushed slowly into her, not wanting to go too fast for fear of bursting too quickly. She gasped out loud, and rested her forehead against his, eyes squeezed shut, her mouth agape in pleasure and the fingers of her one hand digging into his neck. With a smile he pushed into her further and further until he filled her entirely and let out a groan himself. He began thrusting into her in a slow steady rhythm, pressing kisses upon her neck and suckling at the flesh there. She matched his pace as she grinded down against his thrusts, her hips circling and further applying pressure upon her bud. They maintained this slow burn for minutes on end before she began to feel her reach her peak; her breaths becoming more erratic and shallow.

"You feel amazing, Carla" he moaned into her neck as he felt her tighten around him.

She moaned quietly, her thighs tightening around him before pushing him off her as she felt her climax coming on. Peter looked at her in surprise, before feeling her nudge him into a seated position and climbing onto his lap. "Yes," he growled as she started to build a pace again. Up and down, back and forth, she rode him like a woman posessed. She took his arm, directing him to wrap it around her backside as she placed both her hands on his shoulders, leaning slightly away from him, her clit now rubbing against his pelvic bone and she began to shudder. She moved against him, back and forth, faster and faster, her eyes squeezing shut tightly, her lips crashing into his. He could feel the sheen of sweat building on her velvety smooth skin, and could feel her thighs start to tremble as she tightened around him. He pulled his lips away from hers, holding the back of her neck and her backside with his arms.

He whispered lovingly into her ear, encouraging her to cum and with a silent cry she let herself go as he continued to plunge into her steadily. Before she came down from her orgasm, he repositioned his hold on her and flipped her on her back again on the bed. His fingers trailing down her body and he increased his speed; lowering himself and wrapping his arms under her shoulders so that they were as close as possible as he thrust into her repeatedly, feeling his own climax approaching.

"Oh fuck…" he groaned, as she trailed her fingernails down his neck sending shock waves through his skin and tipping him over the edge. He pushed into her forcefully one last time as he came, whispering her name between moans. He held himself steady in her before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. He gently pulled out of her, and rolled to the side of her, grasping her body and pulling it against his.

_'That' _he thought as he pressed a kiss to her forehead,_ 'is just the beginning of what I have in store for you, Carla.'_


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting. I'm back from holiday and still trying to get back into the swing of things. I figured this was the best story to update first. :)**_

_**Also, how brilliant was Alison King in Monday's episodes? She is playing an absolute blinder!**_

* * *

Peter roused from his sleep, quickly aware that the warm, naked body that had been pressed into his was now glaringly absent from his bed.

"Carla?" he whispered, his eyes blinking to adjust through the darkness around him.

"I'm here," she whispered back from across the bedroom, her hands smoothing her shirt as she walked towards the bed and perched on the mattress near him, "you seemed so peaceful I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"What time is it?" He asked, leaning himself up onto his elbow and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his free hand

"Just about 11:00," she responded back, "I figured it best to leave now before I slept the night away."

Peter let out a chuckle, "That's pretty presumptuous of you," he whispered huskily sitting up and cupping Carla's cheek with his hand, "assuming we'd do nothing more than sleep the rest of the night away..." he gently pulled her head towards his, capturing her lips in his.

She responded to his kiss, her fingers placing themselves delicately on his jaw before pulling away softly, "As tempting as that is Barlow, I really don't want to confuse Simon," she said and Peter nodded in response. She dropped her hand from his face and shifted a bit uncomfortably on the bed, before bringing her fingers up to the bridge of her nose, "look Peter," she exhaled as she closed her eyes, "I'm not stupid enough to think this was anything more than what it was. I umm, I know this was just a one off, alright?" she opened her eyes and gazed into his, now warmly looking back into hers, "I mean, I get it, okay? I know that you're just rebounding from Leanne. I know where I stand 'ere, and I'm okay with that. I wouldn't change anything that happened," she smiled crookedly at him, "I had a great time tonight; the dinner and the movie with Si, and then, ummm well, you know..." a blush graced her cheeks as she awkwardly motioned to the bed with her head.

Peter chuckled at her nervousness, and placed his hand on hers, "Carla," he whispered, "do me a favour?" at her nod he continued, "go stick the kettle on, while I get some clothes on. I'm gonna make us a quick brew; there's something I want to talk to you about before you go, and then I'll call you a cab. I don't want you walking home on your own tonight."

"Peter-" Carla began to protest,

"No, Carla. I mean it! It's either a cab, or you stay here." He watched as she twisted her lips in frustration before nodding in agreement and rising to her feet. He smirked at her, "good! Now go on, make yourself useful," he stated, playfully slapping her ass. She chuckled and shook her head at him, jokingly saluting him as she headed off out of the bedroom.

* * *

Carla took a sip of her tea, her lip darting out along her top lip as she lowered the mug onto the table and drummed her fingers on the ceramic. Her eyes came to rest on the bookie, who sat leisurely next to her, his eyes playfully scanning her as she mulled over his proposition.

"I know it sounds odd, Carla" he stated, "but you are right: I'm not ready to get into anything serious right now. But I also don't want you to feel like you're just some rebound from Leanne." He leaned forward, his fingers gently grazing her forearm, "You know you mean so much more to me than that..." he trailed off

Carla exhaled, her eyes flitting from where his finger stroked the skin of her arm, and back up to his mischievous, yet warm, eyes. She placed her elbow on the table, her chin now balancing in the palm of her hand, "I know what you mean, Pe'er, it's just," she sighed audibly, "I don't know, I mean I wouldn't really know how to even begin with something like a casual relationship." Her eyes darted up and around the room as she shrugged, "I mean, when I was in me late teens I dated lads you know, and it were purely physical and stuff but, I mean, Paul were my first serious boyfriend, you know? My first real relationship really. And after that it were Tony," she visibly winced and scratched the back of her head, "and then Trev, but I mean, I feel like I may be getting a bit long in the tooth to be starting this kind of thing, now..."

Peter sputtered his tea, "Long in the tooth? Give over Carla, I've got about a decade on you..."

Carla laughed, "yeah but it's different for men, innit? I mean, you lot could have nothing but casual sex for the rest of your lives and be content! We have hormones that play havoc with our decision making sometimes." She sighed again, offering him a lopsided smile, "can I think about it?" she asked, "just for a few days?"

Peter snickered, "Carla I'm not some ogre that is demanding an answer immediately from you," she chuckled with him, "I can wait as long as it takes, and if you say no, I don't want you to feel as though that will be the end of us," he lifted her chin with his fingers, "as friends or otherwise. I know what I'm asking isn't exactly an easy decision and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to run for the hills rather than get involved at all with someone with my kind of baggage..."

"Oh I have my own fair share of emotional baggage Barlow," Carla snidely pointed out, "or 'ave you forgotten I were nearly barbecued in me own factory by me ex-husband?"

Peter's face became serious, "no," he whispered, "I haven't forgotten..." he responded and smiled sympathetically at her.

Carla's smile fell, suddenly feeling very vulnerable under Peter's gaze. She squirmed in her seat before rising to her feet, taking her empty mug to the sink, "Look, I'll think about it Peter. I mean, I can't deny the appeal of an arrangement with all the fun, physical stuff and none of the emotional, mushy stuff is very tempting, but I just don't want to jump into anything especially with how busy things are at work right now." She lied, ensuring she kept her back to him as she spoke, not wanting to risk him seeing her true emotions.

The truth was she was hurt that he only wanted something physical with her. She knew it was too soon for him after Leanne to get into another relationship, but she felt that if she simply gave in to a friends with benefits situation with him, then things between them would never be more than that.

She knew enough about casual relationships to know that more often than not, they did not end well. One would always fall for the other and end up getting their heart broken.

She didn't need to be in a friends with benefits situation with him to know who would stand to lose in this scenario...

...She had already fallen for Peter Barlow...

She felt his arms encircle her waist and pull her against him, his cheek coming to rest upon hers. "I understand," he murmured in her ear, "Take all the time you need." He kissed her cheek, and nudged her to turn in his arms, which she complied with. He pressed his lips softly onto hers, his hands cupping both sides of her face as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, smiling as she responded in kind. Reluctantly pulling away he pressed another gentle kiss to her lips, and a last to her forehead as he stepped back from her.

Carla smiled at him and nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Oh, I almost forgot!" she exclaimed as she sidestepped him, grateful to be putting some distance between them before her body won out the internal fight it was having with her brain. Grabbing her purse and searching through it, she found the handkerchief he had given her two nights prior outside the pub in Didsbury. Turning back, she held it out for him, "Thanks for this. Don't worry, I gave it a good washing," she said as he plucked it from her fingers, "Eh, I'd never 'ave pegged you for the kind of bloke that carries hankies in his jacket pockets." She chuckled.

Peter smirked, "Ahhh well that'll be me dad rubbing off on me," he snickered humorously before reluctantly grabbing the phone and dialing Streetcars to order a cab for Carla as she slipped her coat on.

"Lloyd says he'll meet you out front," He stepped in front of her, his arms encircling her waist once more, "you sure I can't tempt you to stay the night? I promise I'll be a gentleman and let you get one or two hours of kip..."

She laughed that throaty laugh he adored, "Give over, the only gentlemanly thing I anticipate from you Barlow is to see your handkerchief make another appearance when you go off gallivanting to save some other poor cow in distress," She rested her forehead briefly against his, before pressing a kiss to it, and pulling away, pausing briefly at the door, "Tell Simon I said goodnight, hey?"

"Of course. Night, Connor."

She smiled at him, "Night, Peter."

* * *

"...so that's with delivery and VAT," Carla stated, leaning over the table and tapping the pen on the corner of the spreadsheet, "so if you're satisfied with everything Frank, I'll just need your paw print, right 'ere," she flipped the contract to the final page, and placed the pen before him.

Frank took a moment to watch her as she smoothly picked up her glass of red wine and took a sip, her long eyelashes fluttering closed as the liquid passed her lips. His arousal grew more uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat, smirking as his eyes traipsed up and down her body quickly, before her eyes blinked back open and she lowered the glass but kept it firmly in her hand, her tongue running along her lower lip to catch the drops of wine that lingered there. Her eyes met his, and she raised her eyebrow in piqued curiosity, and he smiled at her, before leaning forward and scribbled his signature on the dotted line. Sitting back he watched as a smile broke out on her face, and she placed the wine glass back on the table.

"Well, I guess that means we're in business, then?" Carla asked, taking the papers and placing them in a folder next to her, and holding her hand out to him.

"We're in business!" Frank stated, taking her hand in his and shaking it but not letting go when she went to pull it back, "I am very much looking forward to working closely with you, Carla," he stated huskily, his eyes trailing from her eyes to her lips and back up again.

Carla, for a moment, was taken aback. She was so sure he was interested in Maria, not her. After all, Maria was sweet and innocent, and very much the beautiful girl-next-door. Carla however, knew she was the complete opposite. She knew her reputation in her line of work: ballbreaker, ice queen, sexy, but an all around shrew.

So why was Frank suddenly so flirtatious with her...?

"Oh, I'm sure you would have preferred my P.A. to be sitting where I am," she teased, falling into her typical flirty banter and offering him a coy smile, "but I'm glad you're not regretting slumming it with me in the end."

"Oh, save me the false modesty," he chirped back, tugging her hand so she was forced to lean in closer to him, "there is no one that I would rather be sat here with, than you," he stated, "and that includes your P.A..." he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her fingers, smirking to himself at the confusion darting across her features,

"Carla!" a voice cried out, startling her from her current predicament. Her eyes looked up in time to see Simon pounce towards her and throw himself into her arms, as Amy ran past her behind the bar, Peter a few steps behind them; his eyes flashing annoyance into the back of Frank's head.

Peter had entered the pub to drop off Amy to her dad and Becky, with Simon in tow, just in time to see Frank pull Carla closer to him and lay a kiss upon her hand.

_'Who the hell is this prick?'_ Peter questioned himself angrily, his lips pressing together to suppress his barely contained jealousy.

"Si!" Carla exclaimed returning the hug to the young boy, "what are you doing in here?" she raised her eyes playfully to Peter, "eh, you're not trying to put him off places like this that early are ya?" Her smile fell when Peter didn't respond, instead turning his jealous gaze from Frank onto her.

"Hey, young man," Frank stated animatedly, "What's your name, then?"

"Simon," the boy responded politely, leaning his back into Carla's legs

"Well, hello there Simon, I'm Frank." Frank held his hand out to the young boy, who reached back and shook it, "ohh quite a grip you've got there," Frank stated playfully and Carla couldn't help but smile at the interaction, but it was short lived as Frank rose to his full height and turned towards the bookie, "he must get that from you, I presume?"

"One of the few positive things he's inherited from his dad," Peter responded smoothly, holding out his hand to this 'client' of Carla's. "Peter Barlow," he introduced

"Frank Foster," the man replied, placing his hand in Peter's and giving it a shake with far more aggression than needed. "Please let me buy you a drink."

Peter chuckled to himself as he released his hand. The man was obviously as envious of Peter as he was of him…

"No thanks I'm uhh I'm not staying, I just came over to drop my niece off to her dad, and Si wanted to get some game or sommit that she has," he glanced at his son, "Simon, you best go up and get it, before Liz has a go at me for bringing you in here..."

"I'm just going to head to the gents," Frank stated to Carla, then leaned down close to her face, whispering something Peter couldn't make out. The bookie's eyes narrowed into slits as Frank's hand caressed Carla's hair almost possessively as his lips hovered above her velvety smooth cheek, before heading off to the toilets.

Simon turned to Carla, "dad said we could make a dinner tomorrow night like they did in _Ratatouille_, from scratch!"

"Did he now," Carla smirked at Peter, who smiled back at her, sitting down in Frank's now vacant seat, "didn't take you for the Gordon Ramsay type, Barlow..."

"Dad said we could make whatever I wanted," Simon continued to ramble, "but I don't know what I want to make yet, so we have to go the grocery store tomorrow and look around. Could you come with us?"

Carla was in shock at his question, her eyes darting between Peter and his son, "oh, Si, I'm not the best person in the kitchen. I usually eat microwaved meals..."

"Oh please, Carla, please!" Simon begged, jumping up and down in anticipation, "you can come with us to the store, and I promise I'll teach you like Remy taught Linguini!"

"Without all the biting I hope," she laughed, as she ruffled his hair

"Nah, he'll leave the biting to his dad..." Peter slyly stated, and Carla shot him a look, shaking her head as he smirked and winked at her

"Please, Carla!" Simon continued on, taking no notice of the exchange between Carla and Peter.

"Okay, Si, go upstairs and wait with your cousin, and I'll talk Carla into it," Peter ordered his son.

"Okay," Simon grumbled, before throwing his arms around Carla again, "bye Carla! See you tomorrow!" he happily shouted before running off behind the bar and through the back,

"Well, it seems my decision was made for me," Carla laughed as she faced Peter again, her smile receding as his eyes bore into hers, "what?" she asked hesitantly.

Peter's eyes dropped to her lips, before he could stop himself he reached out, his thumb lazily caressing her bottom lip, delighting in the way her breath hitched, as he did so,

"breathe, Carla." he ordered her gently, a smirk tugging at his lips as she obeyed him, "I'll take that as a 'Yes' to tomorrow night then, shall I?" Peter responded smugly just as Frank walked back to the table

"Not interrupting am I?" Frank asked smoothly, his eyes lowering to blaze onto Peter's hand which continued to caress Carla's chin and lower lip.

"Not at all," Peter responded as he stood up, "My son just left a smudge on Carla's chin, and I didn't want her walking around in a state," he winked at her, "I'm just going to head out for a fag," Peter stated, before leaning down and whispering in the factory boss's ear, "excuse yourself, and meet me out back in a few minutes." At her slight nod, he rose back up, "It was nice meeting you Frank."

"Likewise," Frank responded cooly, watching as the bookie made his way out to the back of the pub, "I best be off and all, Carla," he said leaning down and placing a kiss on Carla's cheek, "I'll see you on Monday."

"See you, Frank." Carla responded. She waited a few more minutes after he left, trying to wrap her mind around the evening's events, before packing her bag with her files, and rising to her feet, making her way out back to where Peter was stood waiting for her.

She sighed as she approached him, placing her tote on the bench and crossing her arms across her chest, "Do you mind explaining why I felt like I were in the middle of a pissing contest in there?" She asked snappily.

But the bookie didn't respond, he simply continued to glare at her as he blew the cigarette smoke from his mouth, "Well?" she asked in frustration.

Peter flicked the cigarette from his fingers and rushed towards Carla, taking her by surprise as he pushed her back into the wall, and crashed his lips upon hers. His hands grabbed her face keeping her mouth pressed against his as they devoured each other's lips, their tongues dancing ferociously with one another before Peter pulled away, watching in satisfaction as she moaned in disappointment at their sudden separation. His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he held her head steadily between his hands, "if you do agree to this arrangement with me, Carla, you're mine, and mine alone." he captured her lips in another passionate kiss, pulling away again and pinning her with his determined gaze, "I won't share you, even with that pompous ponce of a client of yours..."

"What are you talking about?" she breathed out, "Frank's a client..."

"He wants you," Peter gritted out, his jealousy evident in his tone, "and I hate that he had his lips on your perfect, smooth skin, when the only ones that should be devouring every inch of your body, are mine!" he hovered his lips above hers, keeping his body pressing into hers and pinning her against the wall, grinning in triumph as she tried to kiss him only for him to pull back ever so slightly from her reach, "do you want me, Carla?" he teased her, one of his hands slipping down between them and reaching under her skirt, "right here? right now?"

Her eyes closed as his fingers brushed against her underwear through her stockings, and Peter smirked, "say it, Carla..." he moved his fingers in small circles, feeling her hips move in tandem with his ministration and her eyes becoming damp with desire.

"Peter," she groaned against him, her lips reaching for his again only for him to pull back again,

"Say it, Carla" he ordered her more forcefully

"I want you," she breathed out, "right here, right now"

His lips crashed into hers, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her away from the wall and towards the smoking hut, pushing her into the dark corner as she giggled against him...

...unaware they were both being watched...


	12. Chapter 12

"I'll get it!" Ken shouted to Dierdre as he went to answer the door to No.1, opening it to find Simon, Peter and a rather nervous looking Carla standing on the sidewalk.

"Hello!" Ken said to them all, "come in, come in" he ushered them all in past him and closed the door, following them all into the living room. "So, to what do we owe this pleasure?" His eyes dropped to the large roasting pan clutched in Carla's hands and curiously raised an eyebrow at her

"Errrm," Carla began, "well ummm, you see..."

"Carla broke her oven" Simon giggled, and Peter snorted at his son's bluntness.

Carla licked her lips as embarrassment flushed her features, her eyes darting between Ken and Peter, before lowering herself slightly towards Simon, "tattletale..." she hissed, before turning on her heel and placing the roasting pan on the kitchen counter

"Well you did!" Simon continued to laugh

"Yeah, I still don't understand quite how it happened dad, but oh, did it happen," Peter responded, rubbing his chin and trying to cover his smile with his hand. He lifted his eyes and smiled at his step-mother as she walked into the room, "Hiya Dierdre"

"Hiya love, hello Simon, oh," she looked at the woman shifting awkwardly in the kitchen, "hiya Carla," she said kindly. Granted Dierdre initially wasn't keen on how Carla had tried to lure Peter into bed whilst he was with Leanne, but considering what Leanne had done to both Peter and his son, she certainly didn't have any loyalty remaining towards her stepson's, soon to be ex-wife. Plus, she and Carla have had a few heart to hearts in the past, and she had to admit she was quite fond of her.

More importantly, Simon seemed to be have become quite attached to her. And Peter looked positively smitten, even if he was trying desperately to deny it...

"What brings you all here?" Dierdre asked as she wandered into the kitchen

"Carla broke her oven," Simon and Peter responded in unison

"- uhh her oven" Ken rounded out, slightly behind them

The factory boss pursed her lips, placing a hand on her hip, and eyeing the two men and Simon with an unamused glare, "oh, oh, I see it now, yeah," she gestured to them all, "three generations of that Barlow wit; I see where where Si gets it from," She turned slightly to the woman next to her, "how do you deal with it, Dierdre?"

The older woman sighed audibly, looking at her husband, her stepson, and her step grandson, as they all stood with cheshire cat grins on their faces, "carefully," she responded dryly, before leaning in close to Carla's ear, "wine and cigarettes help..."

Carla nodded, "I may have to take up smoking..."

Peter chuckled at Carla's deflective banter, "Dierdre, Simon wanted to make dinner from scratch, like in the movie _Ratatouille_," Peter explained as he came into the kitchen, "and he insisted, that he would teach muggins here," he poked Carla playfully in the ribs, deflecting her attempt to swat at him with a grin, "how to cook. So we all went to the market today to pick up the ingredients, and Si decided that he wanted to make a roast chicken with potatoes and some vegetables, and some cookies for dessert. Because we only have a small oven in the flat, Carla said we could go to hers to cook since she's got that double oven." he smiled as Carla's embarrassment began to rise again, and she leaned against the counter, her arms folding across her chest, her lips pursing together. "So we prep the chicken, and I'm dicing the potatoes and the vegetables, and Simon and Carla go about making the cookies, right?"

"You really are enjoying taking your pound of flesh with this, eh Barlow?" Carla muttered,

"So they put their trays in the top oven, and the chicken and potatoes in the lower oven and we leave it to it. Then we start to smell something burning," the bookie's lips began to tug into a smirk, "and we notice Carla's tray- and only Carla's tray - of cookies have quadrupled in size, and then they just start bursting, one by one, like balloons popping," he laughed, "next thing we know, the oven starts to spark, and both ovens just shut down..."

Carla pinched the bridge of her nose, "Look I tried to warn ya," she said agitatedly, "I flamin' well told you both I couldn't cook!"

"She weren't kiddin'," Simon responded, his eyes wide as he shook his head in shock

Carla pushed herself away from the counter, "Look it weren't my fault, alright" she started defensively, placing her hands on her hips, "it were the flamin' batter!"

Peter snickered, "uhh, the batter came from the same bowl as Simon's and his didn't blow up," he shook his head and couldn't contain his laugh, "I mean how did you even manage that?"

"Well, I don't know, do I?" She shot back, "Now I have to get my flamin' oven fixed, and we don't even have any cookies to show for it..."

Peter chuckled, as he put his arm around Carla's shoulders and pulled her in closer to him, his eyes still on Dierdre and Ken, "so we were wondering if we could use your oven to finish off the roast chicken, since yours is larger than mine. We've got lots to go around, if you let us?"

"Of course you can, go right ahead." Ken encouraged.

"Uhhh I'll do it!" Simon jumped up and ran to the kitchen, before Carla could get the roasting pan, "You sit down, Carla. I think it's best you just don't touch anymore ovens tonight."

Carla pressed her lips together, her eyes blazing onto Peter, whose arm remained draped across her shoulder, as he snorted again, "you're pushing it, Barlow..."

* * *

Carla tried to stifle another yawn as she sat on the sofa at No. 1 next to Peter, while Simon busied himself in the kitchen with his grandparents.

"You seem shattered today, love. You okay?" Peter asked

Carla shook her head, "Yeah, I just didn't get much sleep last night..."

"Nightmare?" He asked gently and she simply nodded in response.

"I'm definitely not getting them as often, but I guess it's just a bad week." she said, a yawn finally escaping her lips.

"Look, why don't you stay at mine tonight?" He whispered in her ear,

"I don't know Peter," Carla's eyes darted to where Simon was bent down in front of the oven, watching as the now cooked chicken browned under the broiler

Peter followed her gaze, "Si's gonna stay here for the night, since me dad and Deirdre are taking him and Amy to some amusement thing tomorrow," he pulled her closer to him, his lips pressing into her temple softly, "come on, let's see if we can't get you some decent kip."

"Hmmm, just kip eh?" she smirked at him, her eyebrow raising in disbelief

"Well, I mean, I have to do something to tire you out first..." his teeth gently caught her earlobe, his tongue running softly along it, before pressing his lips to a spot on her neck, just below the ear. With a low growl, he stood up, pulling her to her feet, "come with me," he ordered her loudly

"What? Where?" she answered in shock, her eyes catching the questioning looks of Ken and Dierdre in the kitchen

"To the washroom, you've got cookie batter in your hair, you numpty!" Peter turned to his dad and stepmom, "We'll be back in a few minutes," he said before pulling Carla out of the main room and up the stairs.

Once outside the bathroom, he grabbed her head between his hands and kissed her passionately. As she initially continued to kiss him back, his hands began to roam down her top, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her stomach as he tried to unbutton her jeans.

Carla pulled away from him, "What are you doing?" her hands pushing against his chest

"What do you think?" Peter responded smirking, leaning in and capturing her lips again, but she pulled away from his kiss again

"Peter, this is not the time nor the place..." she stated, her eyes darting nervously to the stairs

"Well, happens I like to live dangerously," he said, spinning her around so her back was pressed into the wall next the bathroom door, and their lips crashed together once more.

Carla moaned against his lips, responding feverishly to his kisses before coming to her senses once again and pulling away, "no, Peter."

Peter locked his eyes on hers, "are you denying me, Carla?"

She bit her lip. _God he is so sexy when he is dominant, _she thought. But she knew this was wrong. She was lucky Ken and Dierdre didn't despise her for the whole fiasco between her, Peter, and Leanne. And as much as the thought of a quickie with Peter had her completely hot and bothered, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not in his dad's house, with Ken, Dierdre and Simon all within earshot.

"Yes." she responded with with a sigh, her regret showing in her eyes, as she gently pushed him away form her.

Peter smirked at her as he leaned in close to her face, his lips brushing against her cheek as he whispered, "We'll discuss this back at mine, tonight..." He pulled back and pressed one more fevered kiss to her lips before stepping back from her, "I'll meet you back downstairs."

Carla watched as he descended the staircase, before turning and heading into the bathroom, taking the opportunity to fix herself up as best she could and to quell her racing heart.

She could hear the annoyance in Peter's voice as she denied him sex; but also saw that he was turned on by her defiance. She felt so submissive in his presence, and it was a feeling she wasn't at all used to. It scared her to give up that much control, and yet, the thought of him taking charge and dominating her between the sheets caused a delicious shiver to run down her stomach, and she felt her clit throb in anticipation.

She turned on the taps and ran her wrists under cold water.

How she would make it through dinner without jumping onto his lap and riding him until she screamed in ecstasy, she didn't know...

* * *

They sat on the sofa in Peter's flat some hours later, mindlessly watching some drama, as Peter lazily poked at the bowl of ice cream he had scooped out for himself. To say this wasn't what Carla had expected when they arrived back to his flat after dinner at No. 1 would be an understatement.

Peter, however, was completely enjoying watching her squirm in anticipation. He slowly raised the spoon to his lips, taking the smallest bite possible and hearing Carla grunt in frustration next to him.

He was toying with her. Wanting to punish her for denying him, by now denying her. But he had to admit it was a difficult game to play. It was taking all of his willpower not to rip all of her clothes off, and bend her over the sofa...

Carla watched him for a while, noting his attempts to be nonchalant, and at first becoming frustrated with his ignoring her. However, as her eyes glanced down, she noted the prominent bulge in his pants, and how every swallow he took seemed to be strained; as though he were trying desperately to quell his growing arousal.

_'Toying with me, eh Barlow?'_ she thought wickedly, '_Well let's see how well you can play...'_

Carla watched as he lowered the spoon into the ice cream and rested the cool bowl slightly on his crotch, a sigh of relief escaping his lips, and she chuckled to herself. Slowly, she leaned over, grabbing the spoon in his lap and began twirling the ice cream around the bowl; a naughty little idea entered her mind and she couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. She picked the bowl up from his lap and pushed her weight against him in order to aid herself up from the couch. "'Well I'm starting to get a little knackered. Ere, I don't suppose there's room in your bed is there, for a little numpty like me tonight?" She whispered seductively.

As much as he wanted to continue resisting her, Peter couldn't deny he was incredibly aroused by the very tone of her velvety voice. He grabbed for her hand to pull himself up. "Go on then, I suppose so," He said, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing quite miserably, as he switched the television off with the remote and allowed Carla to drag him into the next room.

She was taking control again, and he couldn't allow that.

He closed the door behind them, his eyes travelling up and down her body as he approached her. Placing his hands on her hips he pulled her back against his chest, moving in close to smell her hair. One of his arms snaked around her, his palm pressing onto her stomach as his other hand gently swept her hair to one side.

He leaned in closer to her, keeping her held firmly against his body, and with the greatest of tenderness brushed the tip of his nose slowly up her neck before planting a soft kiss just under her jaw. She gasped audibly and her body relaxed once more in his embrace. He smiled into her neck as continued to peck his lips across the soft flesh. While she threw her head back to allow him more access, his gaze shifted to the bowl of ice cream still clutched in her hand, noting with some satisfaction that her knuckles had turned a shade of white as she gripped it tighter between her fingers.

"Put the bowl down, baby." He gently ordered her as he turned her slowly in his embrace, his teeth grazing along her jawline before nipping playfully at her chin.

Carla instead backed away from him, her eyes alit with mischief.

"No," she responded defiantly.

Peter raised his eyebrows, "No?"

"No," She responded firmly, taking the spoon in her fingers and swirling the chocolate ice cream around the bowl before ladling some onto the utensil.

"So what you're saying is you would rather have ice cream than me?" he teased, taking a step closer to her

She shook her head flirtatiously, "I'm saying I'd rather have both…" she responded as she bit her lip, raising the ice cream to her lips and licking it provocatively from the spoon, her eyes not once leaving his.

Peter let out a growl as he launched towards her and ensnared her in a tight embrace. His hand tangled into her hair while his lips feverishly pressed against hers, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth as he savoured the taste of chocolate that now lingered there.

She broke the kiss and pulled back once more, placing the bowl on top of the dresser before sliding her hands into the waistband of his jeans. Her lips brushed his once more as her fingers deftly opened the button and pulled the zipper down. Their kisses became more impassioned as she lightly teased her hands up under his shirt and pushed it up over his head before allowing him to do the same to her top.

"Eh," she managed between kisses, watching as her shirt was carelessly flung across the room, "be careful with that! Your son 'appens to like that top."

"Is that so?" he questioned teasingly while trailing his fingers along her ribcage, "well 'appens I like what lies beneath it much more…"

She giggled against his lips as they once more captured hers and he gently pushed her into a sitting position at the foot of the bed. He knelt at her feet and pulled her boots slowly off followed by her jeans, leaving her clad only in her lacy black bra and knickers. He rose to his feet as she pushed his jeans down his legs and trailed her tongue from his belly button upwards while he kicked off his boxers and socks. She flashed him a feral grin as she rose to her feet, pulling the bedcovers with her before tossing them onto the floor and quickly darted past him to grab the ice cream bowl once again.

"Lie down." She ordered him whilst stirring the contents of the bowl.

She didn't need to ask twice as Peter practically catapulted himself onto the mattress. She shook her head teasingly and made her way over to him stopping just beside him. She took a spoonful of the ice cream and placed a small amount in her mouth, her tongue darted along her lips as she threw her head back, closed her eyes, and let out an appreciative moan.

Peter bit his lip as he watched her from his place on the bed, his fingers idly stroking his member while letting his eyes roam her nearly naked form.

Carla opened her eyes and seductively climbed upon the bed, perching herself so she was straddling him. Her lacy knickers brushed the head of his cock before she sat upon his stomach and he couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. Smiling down at him, she scooped another spoonful of the quickly melting ice cream, "Want some?" she asked as she placed the spoon in her mouth, using her tongue to lick it clean in a way that made his cock twitch against her butt cheek. He simply nodded, his eyes unable to remove themselves from hers, but she shook her head in response, taking another generous helping of the cool dessert in her mouth. She leaned across him placing the bowl onto the side table and shimmied herself down his body, taking extra care to ensure the parts of her he longed to touch brushed the part of him she longed to take in her mouth.

Rolling the ice cream in her mouth in its entirety before swallowing, she quickly grabbed hold of his member and darted her tongue along the head. Peter groaned and he arched his back off the bed in pleasure. Her tongue was cold from the ice cream and yet it felt so good as she swirled it around the head of his cock. Before he could absorb the pleasure she slid him into her mouth, maintaining the firm grasp at his base with her free hand. Looking up at him through long eyelashes she slowly moved up and down, her tongue swirling around the head at the top before pushing back down again. She changed up the speed between quick and fast, slow and deliberate, all the while her hand remained firmly at the base, squeezing and stroking in tandem with her mouth's movements. She continued on for minutes on end; her jaw beginning to tire but spurred on by the moans and groans she was drawing from him, and he grabbed ahold of her hair, pulling it slightly as he came in her mouth. She continued to suck as he came down from his orgasm, revelling as he moaned her name, over and over.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up towards him before flipping her over and pinning her beneath him. He pressed a long hard kiss to her mouth, one she returned with equal passion before whispering softly in her ear, "my turn…"

He plucked the spoon out of her hand and tossed it on the side table before turning his attention to her bra and knickers. With the slowest of movements he pulled them from her body and flung them across the room, reaching for the bowl instead that remained beside them on the nightstand. With a naughty grin, he easily poured a trail of ice cream from her chest to her pubic bone. He moved the bowl to her lips and watched as she lapped the bits that had dripped down the side with her tongue. Placing the bowl on the side table he began to make his way down her body, his lips and tongue kissing and licking the chocolatey mess from her velvety skin. She moaned against him, her hands reaching for his head as he made his way down her pubic bone and as he placed himself between her legs.

He knelt between her legs and massaged each with a hand, mesmerized by their softness and silkiness. He proceeded to caress her right leg with feathery light kisses, giving her inner thigh extra attention. When he got to the top of her thigh he moved to her left leg to give it the same attention. Carla could feel his breath on the sensitive flesh between her legs and inhaled sharply as she waited in anticipation. When she felt his tongue lick her most intimate of areas, she gasped, and spread her legs wider to give him better access. With varying speed and pressure, his tongue dragged back and forth, traveling over her clit with each trip.

Peter stopped his licking to gaze up at her from his kneeling position between her legs. "No chocolate needed here." he huskily stated, "you taste amazing as is..." he winked at her before continuing his pleasuring of her.

"Corny..." she responded glibly, hearing him chuckle against her, and she inhaled sharply as his tongue continued to flick against her clit with more persistence

The more her body relaxed the more she was able to respond to Peter's persistent administrations and soon the room was filled with the sound of her moans. As Peter continued his pleasurable assault on her, he lightly ran his hands over her calves, thighs and stomach and up to her bare breasts, which he lightly grazed and pinched. A heat, centered in her nether region began to spread throughout her body as her concentration was consumed with the mastery of his tongue. A moan escaped from the back of her throat when Peter plunged his tongue deeply into her, moving in and out, flicking her engorged bud every time.

One of his muscular arms was wrapped around a thigh as a leg dangled down his back while more and more involuntary gasps escaped her lips. Carla was now gripping the sheets with her right hand as she ran the left through Peter's hair. Her eyes were closed as the moans poured from her lips. The release she craved came when Peter's ravenous licking and suckling of her aroused bud brought her over the edge. She cried out in sheer pleasure as her body convulsed in wave after wave of an orgasm while he held a firm grip on her trembling thighs. After Peter claimed every drop of her orgasm that poured from her with his mouth, he looked up at Carla with a cheeky smile on his face. Her eyes remained closed, and her breathing continued to be ragged and heavy.

He wanted nothing more than to climb over her and plunge into her, but in that moment he decided to extend the torture a little longer, making the decision that she needed a bit more of a punishment before giving her what she and he both craved.

He dipped low again and planted gentle kisses along her centre and pubic bone, getting another moan of sheer contentment from her and he felt her body relax beneath his hands. He continued his slow, leisurely torture of pressing feather-light kisses to her hot and responsive body. His tongue darted along her inner thighs as he made his way down to her knees, chuckling to himself as he knew how much the anticipation would be driving her mad.

"I think…you need…a bit…more punishment…baby…for daring to deny me…earlier tonight…don't you?" he asked between kisses, "of course…you could…just beg…me for forgiveness…"

He received a snort in reply and he giggled a bit. God she was too stubborn to admit defeat, and boy did he love the challenge!

He continued his torturous assault, his lips trailing back up her thighs to her stomach when he paused.

_'Was that another snort?'_ he thought as he heard the same sound again. He lifted his head to see what could have been so funny but her eyes were still closed.

"Carla?" he called gently to her. Upon getting no response, he called her name again a little louder, "Carla?"

He received a mild snore in response.

"no, no no," he whispered despondently as he climbed up her body and lay beside her on the bed. He poked her shoulder with his finger, calling her name again but she simply mumbled incoherently in response before letting out another baby snore.

_'...well, shit...' _

Peter's face fell, as he collapsed onto his back next to her. Sighing, he reached over and grabbed the duvet from the floor, throwing it over them both, and spooning Carla's body into his. He placed a kiss into the back of her head, hearing her moan his name in her sleep, and he sighed with contentment.

Right now, there was nowhere he'd rather be...


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews.**_

* * *

Carla peeked her head around the doorframe leading from the bedrooms to the main area of the flat.

"Morning," she said sheepishly

Peter turned his head towards her voice, his eyes raking up and down her body as she came to stand at the counter wearing his robe that he had laid on the bed for her, a smile spreading across his face. "Morning. Coffee, sleeping beauty?"

Carla dropped her head into her hands, her elbows on the counter, "ohhh I'm so mortified," she groaned, before peeking up at him through her fingers, "yes, to the coffee, please."

Peter laughed at her obvious embarrassment, before placing a mug of coffee before her, and gently poking her with his finger, "no need to be mortified, love. After all, I kept my promise didn't I?"

"Your promise?" she asked curiously, sitting on the stool at the counter, and reaching for the milk,

"Yeah, that I would tire you out enough to get you some decent kip," Peter took a sip of his coffee, his eyes taking in her disheveled bedhead, and he couldn't quite believe how naturally gorgeous she looked first thing in the morning. "I must congratulate myself really, you were spark out to the world."

"Hmm, it felt like it," Carla agreed, taking a sip of her coffee, "I don't remember the last time I slept that deeply. I'm usually quite a light sleeper."

"Well, you're certainly not a quiet sleeper..." Peter said mischievously, bringing the mug back up to his lips as Carla looked at him in trepidation

"Oh God, don't tell me I snore?" she put her hand over her mouth

Peter laughed, "no, no," he shook his head, "well, okay! You do have this cute little baby snore thing that you do,"

"A baby snore?" she asked incredulously

"Yeah it's this soft kind of snore. Not really loud or anything, but quite adorable actually," He winked at her

"Okay so if I don't snore, what do I do?" she asked, more worried now

"You talk."

"I talk!" she stated in horror

"Yep, talk," he sipped his coffee, a large grin on his face, "and boy are you ever an open book..."

She dropped her head into her hands again, "oh God," she groaned, "Paul had told me I did that sometimes. He used to tell Liam about it, and they'd have a right go at teasing me about it for weeks." She ran her hands through her hair, feeling utterly embarrassed and refusing to look Peter in the eye, "what did I say?"

Peter watched her for a long moment. He hadn't realized it was something that would strike a such a sensitive nerve with her, and he started to feel a bit bad about bringing it up, "oh, just random things, really. Stuff about the factory, and wine..." he lied. He didn't have the heart to tell her what she actually said, worried she would be so mortified she may never speak to him again.

"The factory? Really?" she asked, not entirely believing him

"Yep. I mean I knew you said you could run that place in your sleep, but I didn't think you were serious until last night," he snickered

She giggled a bit, and drank a bit more of her coffee, "didn't know I were quite that literal either..."

Peter leaned on the counter, happier that she was visibly more relaxed, "So, what are your plans for today?"

Carla licked her lips, and lowered her mug to the counter, "well, ummm nothing really," she responded, "Sundays are usually my day to do some washing, and get ready for the week ahead," she scratched her head, "Sometimes I meet Maria for a drink in the Rovers, if I'm going stir crazy in the flat."

"Well, what do you say we spend the day together?" He asked, "Grab some breakfast, go for a walk...?"

"Really?" she asked, "isn't that all the kind of stuff we should be avoiding if we want to just have a friends with benefits type of relationship?"

"Well, happens that you haven't agreed to the arrangement yet, remember?" he smirked at her, "and besides, since when did I ever follow the rules?"

At her hesitancy, he continued, "Carla, look, I like you. I like hanging out with you. I like the banter, and the fun...and the sex..." He grinned with a wink, and she smiled crookedly at him, "Plus, Simon hasn't stopped talking about you since our dinner and movie night."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean he always liked you when you and Leanne were mates, but I never clocked just how much until recently. So, is it a non-date, date?"

"I don't know..." she responded apprehensively, her eyes narrowing as she stared into her mug

"Are you seriously saying you would rather spend a day with your washing, than me?"

"Hmmm and Maria," she quipped back with a smirk, her eyes playful as they locked on his again.

He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, "come on. At least let me take you to Roy's for some breakfast and we can decide from there."

She leaned forward on the counter towards him, "On one condition..."

"What's that then?" he whispered back, pushing himself closer to her

"You let me use your shower? For some reason, I'm a right chocolatey, sticky mess..." she responded seductively, and he laughed and nodded

"Be my guest," he stated, throwing his arm out towards the bathroom in a grand gesture

"oh no, no you don't Barlow," Carla pushed herself up from her chair, downing the remainder of her coffee in one swoop, pushing the mug towards him, "don't you start playing the gentleman now; I reckon it'll turn me right off ya," she playfully slapped his cheek twice and sauntered off to the bathroom

"Scrub your back?" He called after her

"Ha! You wish!"

_'That I do, Connor. That I do...' _He thought greedily to himself as he went to fetch her some towels.

* * *

Peter continued to busy himself in the kitchen, trying to ignore the fact that Carla was naked and sudsy in his shower, but failing miserably. As he wiped the countertop with a dishcloth, his thoughts kept floating back to the times they had sex in the past few days, relieving each exquisite minute, and he couldn't help the grin that pulled at his lips.

Suddenly he froze, his mind going into overdrive. There was something similar in the two, almost three, times they had sex that had him instantly perplexed.

At first he thought it was sexy as hell, the way she pushed him off of her right before she climaxed and climbed on top of him their first night, riding him until her orgasm took over her body.

Then, surprisingly, she did the same thing that night in the Rovers backyard; he had her bent over the small table, his hands roaming her mostly fully clothed body and feeling her just about to orgasm when she suddenly pushed him away from her, forcing him to sit on the bench beside the table and straddling him, her skirt covering her modesty as she sat on his cock and rode him almost viciously, moaning his name in his ear as she reached her peak, with him following shortly afterwards.

Peter's eyes glanced towards the bathroom and he pursed his lips. Even when he was pleasuring her orally, she seemed to suddenly take the lead: using her hands to guide him, almost controlling his movements until she came.

It was almost as though she didn't want to surrender fully to him between the sheets. Did she not trust him enough to lose herself completely in their trysts? Was she holding back?

_What was that about? _

Peter inched towards the bathroom, anxiety beginning to set in and he was suddenly very self-conscious. _Was he not good enough to satisfy her on his own...?_

He stripped off his clothes and quietly entered the bathroom. The steam from the shower not disguising the shadowy outline of her body beyond the curtain.

He pulled back the material and she spun to face him in surprise. He gave her a small smile and stepped into the shower with her, pulling the curtain back into place behind him.

This was it. He needed to find out if this was simply a power struggle between them, or if it was something more...

He simply watched her for a few moments. Her eyes were locked on his, the water gently falling down her head and face, her black hair now wet and clinging to her skin and her arms were gently wrapped around her chest, hugging herself protectively. His eyes traveled the length of her body, really taking in her nakedness, without the cover of darkness, for the first time in complete awe. His eyes traveled the length of her body; loving the way the water lapped around her curves.

He stepped forward and grasped her face between his hands, forcing her to look up at him, "I want you," he pleaded with her quietly, and she bit her lip in hesitation, "do you not want me, Carla?"

"Of course I do," she whispered, "you know I do..."

He nodded with a grin, leaning forward and gently kissing her, one hand caressing her hair from the top of her head until it came to rest on the side of her cheek and he pulled back ever so slightly until his lips hovered over hers, "show me," he whispered seductively, "show me how much you want me…"

Her eyes searched his briefly before he captured her lips in another fevered kiss, one which she returned with equal passion, a small whimper escaping her as she did so. His hands began to roam her naked and wet body and he pushed her against the wall of the shower. His fingers skillfully trailing along her skin, and he broke their kiss to gaze into her eyes, now wide with desire before he lay kisses along her neck and chest. Her hips bucked against his as he swirled his tongue around her nipples, gently nipping at them, and she moaned in response, her fingers gripping onto his wet biceps.

His fingers inched ever lower and he nudged her thighs apart, slipping two of his fingers into her silken folds. She leaned her head back against the wall, the water from the shower that lapped onto Peter's back, trailing down her hips and thighs, further sensitizing her skin. He pressed his forehead against hers, as she tried catch his lips between gasps. He leaned down, nipping and biting the skin of her neck and collarbone as his fingers pleasured her, his thumb applying pressure to her bud.

He could feel her beginning to reach her peak and pulled his fingers out of her. Her eyes opened half-lidded and she grasped the hair on the back of his head, urging him to continue. He grabbed one of her hands in his and pressed it to the wall beside her face; his fingers interlacing with hers as her eyes searched his inquisitively.

"You're not taking control in here, love," he said evenly, "I'm the one who is going to control when you cum this time..." He saw the flash of concern in her eyes, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his fingers slipping inside her achingly slow, and he reluctantly broke their kiss, "don't you feel safe with me, Carla?" he whispered, his forehead pressing into hers again, his eyes fixed on hers, "don't you trust me?"

He was driving her close to the edge again with his fingers, and she gasped as she felt her body begin to quake only to have him remove his fingers abruptly again, "ughh," she cried out; her head falling back into the wall, her heart racing in her chest, and feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes in frustration

"Do you trust me...?" he asked again, his fingers teasing the skin of her inner thigh and loving the control he had over her as she cried out his name in sheer exasperation, "answer me, Carla and I'll give you what you want..." he teased, his lips pressing to the corner of her mouth

"Yes," she gasped out, "yes, I trust you!"

He plunged his fingers back into her, thrusting in and out, while his thumb circled her clit steadily. Her legs began to tremble, and she could feel the delicious pull stemming from her pelvis only to have Peter pull his fingers out of her once again,

"no!" she cried out, tears well and truly stinging her eyes in sheer frustration as he lifted her leg and placed it on the edge of the tub,

"Beg me…" he ordered her in a hushed tone, "Beg me for your release."

Her thighs continued trembling and he pushed his arousal teasingly between her legs, allowing her to grind along its length for a moment before pulling away again. She was ready to tug at her hair in annoyance and desperation, but he gripped her hand a little tighter and pushed against her harder, "beg me Carla," he ordered her more forcefully and she became more aroused with his dominance over her.

"Please," she breathed out, "Please Peter," she pleaded with him.

"Louder," he teased her, loving how this strong, confident woman became putty in his hands as he teased her earlobe with soft nips, and he easily hoisted her leg from the edge of the tub to around him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her backside, his cock poised at her centre.

"Peter please!" she begged louder and let out a cry as he plunged into her, her face turned to the back of the shower as he thrust into her, in and out in a slow and deliberate rhythm, his thumb applying circles to her clit and pushing her over the edge. He released her hand and her nails gripped into his back and neck, as his lips continued to lay multiple kisses along her shoulder. Carla cried out Peter's name in between moans, and he smiled against her as he continued to thrust into her; her eyes were closed as she continued to come down from her orgasm, wrapping her leg tighter around Peter's hip and intensifying his arousal. As he felt himself nearing his own orgasm, he pressed his lips up along Carla's throat and captured her lips as he thrust more rapidly, grunting her name as he released inside her.

* * *

He watched as she ate her full English across from him just over an hour later, his eyes taking in her barely-there makeup and her dried, but un-straightened hair. "I like your hair like that," he said, drawing her eyes up to his and a smile tugged at her lips.

"Like what?" she asked, "like I haven't run a brush through it?"

He chuckled, "no, natural. a bit wavy and unkempt. Reminds me of the bedhead you had earlier this morning." He whispered wolfishly, winking at her as he bit into his toast

She smirked at him, shaking her head slightly, "you are so raunchy, Barlow."

"And I'm hoping to be more so, later today..." he growled in a low voice.

"That's mighty presumptuous of you. I haven't decided if I even want to spend any more time with you today," she quipped, taking a bite of her toast and pinning him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that right?" he asked and she nodded,

"Yeah, you're boring me now," she playfully chided him

"Is that a fact? So what do I need to do to persuade you to hang out with boring ol' me, then?" He asked teasingly, before noticing that the smile on Carla's face had dropped, her face paling as her eyes fixated on something behind him,

"Car? What is it?" He asked, turning in his seat and feeling his heart drop to the pit of his stomach

"Well, well, well," Leanne's voice boomed as she came to stand next to their table, "isn't this cozy..."


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Thank you all for the amazing reviews on this fanfic. I very much appreciate it. **_

_**I was having a bit of writer's block with this fic, so I do apologize for the delay in uploading this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait. **_

_** I'm hoping to have a chapter of My Heart Bleeds and Going For The Hat Trick uploaded during the weekend.**_

_**Thank you all again, for all your support**_

* * *

"Well, would you look at this: if it isn't the 'happy couple'," Peter said snidely as Nick came to stand behind Leanne, "So, to what do we owe this pleasure?"

Leanne pursed her lips, her arms folding across her chest, "We came in to get some breakfast seeing as how you weren't at the flat when I called. Didn't realize you'd be out this early with the ice queen," she gestured toward Carla who rolled her eyes and dropped her head into her hand, "You know," Leanne continued, looking towards Nick, "I thought it felt a bit frosty in here,"

"Lea," Nick warned her gently, his eyes casting down to where Carla was now rubbing her forehead in sheer agitation and for a minute they both locked sympathetic eyes on the other. The last thing either one wanted, was for a brawl to break out in Roy's Rolls.

"I want to get the rest of my things from the flat, and I want to see our Si," Leanne stated, sticking her chin out defiantly, as she stared down at her estranged husband

Peter chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee, "well that's a no to both of those for today, I'm afraid."

"You can't do that!" she protested

"Oh, I can assure you that I can," Peter said evenly, "All of your things were packed up and given to Janice, weeks ago. So there is no need for you to go into my flat anymore."

"And what if you forgot something?" She challenged him

Peter shrugged, "well, once you check your stuff, you can call into the Bookies tomorrow. And if Dierdre is able to mind the shop, then I'll make time for you to go up to the flat."

"Why not today?"

"Because today is not convenient for me. I have plans." Peter responded evenly, his eyes glinting at Carla, who sat across form him apprehensively biting her lip

"With _her?_"

"With _Carla,_ yes." He replied and Carla exhaled, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Leanne got her defences up, jealousy rising through her as she saw the way Peter looked to the woman behind her, "fine," she answered in a low voice, trying to hold in the tears she felt building up, "then I at least want to see Si."

"Simon is out for the day with Ken and Dierdre, and he won't be back until late. And I won't have him spoiling his good day by then laying eyes on you. You can see him tomorrow after school," he smirked at her, and cocked his head to the side, "if he wants to see you, that is."

"Peter..." Carla admonished him quietly

"Oh pipe down, you!" Leanne snapped, throwing a look over her shoulder to Carla, "don't act like you give a toss about that kid!"

"Uhh I do as it so happens!" Carla responded, her face furrowing in offence, "And the last thing that poor lad needs is you both using him as an emotional battering ram!"

Leanne scoffed angrily and she turned to face Carla, "Yeah, right! You've not got a maternal bone in your body," she gritted out at her, "you're just fluttering your eyelashes and acting like you're not a cold-hearted bitch, just so you can pull the wool over his eyes!" she gestured to Peter, "Can't say I'm all that shocked to be honest. You've been trying to get your claws into him for months now-,"

"Leanne, drop it.' Peter gritted out as Carla shook her head at Leanne in disgust

But Leanne instead bent down, pressing her palms into the table and leaned in close to Carla's face, "but he didn't want you then, and the only reason he wants you now is because he can't have _me_-"

"That's enough!" Peter rose angrily from his chair, and Leanne stood back up, crossing her arms in front of her chest again and keeping her back to him,

"I'll decide when it's enough!" She spat over her shoulder, turning her glare back on Carla,

"Perhaps, you should take this elsewhere-" Roy interjected from behind the counter

"You're pathetic, Carla. You know that? How long have you been lying to my face, eh? How long has he?" she threw a look at Peter over her shoulder before turning back to the woman who remained seated, "Tell me sommit, were you sleeping together from the start?"

"No," Carla answered truthfully, her eyes downcast

"Before we were even married?" Leanne continued

Carla raised her head her brows furrowing, "What like when you were sleeping with him, you mean?" she nodded towards Nick

"Ugghh," Leanne scoffed, rolling her eyes "I was wondering when you were going to stick that one in-"

"Well, it's true!" Carla shot back

"No, you know what, this is my moral high ground Carla, not yours!" Leanne shook her finger close to Carla's face accusingly, "so come on, when did it start?"

"We don't have to answer to you," Peter stated angrily,

"Leanne," Carla rose from her seat, attempting to placate the situation, "this isn't the time or the place. Peter and I were not the ones having an affair-"

"Don't you even try with that! You chased him!" Leanne shouted, stepping right up into Carla's face, "and when he said 'no', you kept throwing yourself at him until he couldn't fight you off anymore!" she snorted disgustedly at her, "you're like a cat on E..."

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I really must ask you to leave now," Roy stated, coming up and standing next to Nick,

"I'm sorry, Roy, I'll take her out," Nick apologized,

"Don't bother, I'll go." Carla stated, grabbing her coat and and purse and darting around Roy to the exit,

"Car, wait!" Peter called after her, grabbing his coat and following her out onto Victoria Street, "Carla!" he called again, as he caught up to her,

"Peter, just don't okay" she sighed, turning around to face him as she pulled her coat on over her shoulders, "Look, I had a really great time yesterday. All of it: cooking with Si, and you know, even having eating dinner with Ken and Dierdre. And I mean, last night and this morning," a slight blush coloured her cheeks and she smiled briefly at him, "but I think it's best we just leave it for today-"

"No. Carla, we were having such a good weekend," he cupped her face, "don't let her spoil this," he brushed his thumb across the skin of her cheek, "please?"

"Oi!" Leanne's voice shrilled from behind Peter, "You home-wrecking bitch, I'm not finished with you yet!" her red coat swishing as she stomped towards them

"Oh you know what Leanne, get off your sanctimonious high 'orse will ya?" Carla shouted, her temper finally getting the better of her as she pushed past Peter, and squared up to the blonde, "you've made your choice, alright? Now live with it!"

Leanne smirked at the opportunity Carla unknowingly presented her with, "You know you're right, Carla: Nick and I, we can live with our choices," She turned her gaze to Peter, "It's you I'm worried about, Peter."

Carla felt the colour drain from her, having a sinking feeling she knew the words that were about to leave the blonde's lips

"Oh for crying out loud Leanne!" Peter exhaustedly asked, thoroughly annoyed that what started off as a perfect Sunday was being ruined by his soon to be ex-wife, and he turned his anger on the man next to her, "Are you going to step in, or has she got you well and truly whipped?"

"Leanne," Nick stated, grabbing her by the elbow, "they're not worth it..."

"Look at you," But Leanne had turned her glare back to the woman before her, "causing chaos and misery wherever you go; and not a single strand of hair out of place, nothing sticks to you, does it? Nothing, and no one..."

"That's enough," Peter growled, placing a hand protectively on Carla's back

Leanne continued, her eyes only on Carla, "I'd be worried Peter, because you see, I were wrong: She's not like a cat on E," Leanne continued, "She's a flamin' black widow," she spat viciously, "Paul, Tony," she leaned forward a bit, "Liam..." she snarled, smiling when she saw the pain flash across Carla's face; the tears visibly pooling in her eyes, "Yeah, there you are: all shiny and glossy and luring men into your web, where you slowly suck the life out of them. You know what Carla," Leanne lowered her voice maliciously, "if you actually care about Peter, like you claim you do, you'll walk away before you do the same thing to him that you did to the others. Because every man that you ever love, ends up dead!"

"I said **that's enough**, Leanne!" Peter shouted, moving to step in front of Carla

"Come on, let's go," Nick tugged Leanne toward him, "you've said enough."

With a final sneer to Carla and Peter, Leanne allowed Nick to pull her away. Once they were out of earshot, Peter turned to Carla who was fiddling with her bag.

"Hey-" he began softly, raising a hand to cup her cheek, but she pulled away from him.

"Don't be nice to me," she warned him, keeping her eyes downcast towards her bag

"Carla," he whispered, "don't push me away. Talk to me..."

She raised her eyes to him, and he was almost taken aback by the sadness that absorbed them, "there's nothing to say, Peter. I just want to go home."

"Let me come with you -"

"No, Peter," she sighed, closing her eyes, "I just need to be on my own right now, okay?"

"Okay." Before she could turn to walk away, he pulled her toward him,

"What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes darting around apprehensively at his very public display

"This," he whispered, his hand grasping the back of her head and capturing her mouth with his own. His lips danced gently with hers; a soft, tender kiss that he hoped spoke volumes. As he pulled back from her, he ran his hand down her hair, "I'll text you later, okay?" At her nod, he placed a final peck on her lips, reluctantly releasing her and letting her walk off towards her flat. He watched her for a time, before turning around and heading back to his flat. All his covert plans to woo her under the guise of keeping things casual, had been ruined by his soon to be ex-wife. He had never been more agitated with Leanne then he was right now...

* * *

Later that evening, Carla found herself relaxed in her trackpants and an oversized off the shoulder jumper. She had her hands slipped into her yellow rubber gloves as she dug into cleaning the stuck on mess in her oven: all that remained of her baking disaster the previous evening with Simon and Peter. She paused for a few minutes, leaning her body into the counter, as she went over the day's events for the tenth time or so. She tried to ignore what Leanne had said, but she couldn't deny how much it hurt that she had thrown Liam in her face. Leanne knew how much Carla suffered after Liam was killed. She knew how hard it was for her to make the decision she did to not be with him, and how she blamed herself for his death: had she just run off with him he would be alive. If she hadn't engaged in the affair, Tony wouldn't have killed him...

It was just 2.5 years later, and she still blamed herself...

She shook her head as if to clear the memories that flooded her mind, and took a sip of the wine she had poured for herself. Within seconds she was back in Peter's flat, in his shower...she smiled to herself as she remembered how dominant he was. It both aroused and terrified the hell out of her. Ultimately, she hated that she gave up her control to him. Every time she did, she felt herself falling for him faster and harder. She took another sip of wine; she knew she couldn't just surrender to him, or she would lose control not just in the bedroom, but outside of it as well.

And yet, she couldn't deny that the tug of war for control they had was hot as hell...

She jumped as the buzzer went off, and she placed a hand over her heart briefly before placing her glass down on the counter, and heading over to the intercom.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver

"Carla Connor?" Peter's smooth voice came through,

"Hmmm the very same..." she responded, an involuntary smile tugging at her lips

"I hear you're having some problems with your oven..."

"Hmmm that I am,"

"Perhaps it's because its owner is too hot to handle..."

"So cheesy..." she scoffed playfully

"Need me to jiggle a few of your dials for you..."

"Oh come up you raunchy begger!" She laughed as she buzzed him up, cracking her door open for him, and she went back to the kitchenette to toss the rest of her wine down the sink, filling her glass with some water and downing it, before rinsing her glass out as Peter entered the flat. She raised her head up to look at him as he closed the door behind him, her eyes dropping to the large bouquet of flowers he held in his hand.

"Those for anyone I know?" She asked with a smirk as she pulled off her gloves and tossed them on the counter

"They're for your oven," he teased, coming to stand in front of her, "you know, in memoriam..."

She playfully hit him on his chest, "cheeky!"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, "They're for you, muggins. I know you wanted to be on your own tonight, but I couldn't get that sad look on your face when you left this morning off my mind, and I just wanted to bring you something that would make you smile again," he whispered, his nose rubbing along hers before pecking her lips with a kiss, "do they make you smile? Hmm?" he kissed her again

"You make me smile," she answered huskily, her lips capturing his passionately and wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled back and pressed her forehead against his, "they do help though. They're gorgeous."

"So are you." He placed the flowers on the counter, and pulled her against him, their lips crashing together until Carla pulled away, her eyes dancing passionately as she walked backwards towards the bedroom,

"I suppose it's only right that I say thank you properly then, isn't it?" she asked, biting her lip and gazing at him beneath her lashes

Peter growled as he reached for her, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her again, walking her backwards into her bedroom and kicking the door shut behind him.

They continued to kiss feverishly, discarding their clothes quickly and collapsing onto the bed. Both of their pent up frustrations at their ruined day together rising to the surface and culminating in a heated tumble on her duvet, each planting kisses along the other's jawline and neck as their hands gripped onto the other; their bodies twisting and rolling. Peter pinned her beneath him, burying his hands in her hair as he rubbed his length teasingly between her legs. Carla moaned against his lips, her hips grinding down in desperation for friction. They continued to tumble, each one vying for control, but Peter ultimately allowing Carla to win out. He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him, grinning as he anticipated the ride she was about to give him.

She continued to press kisses to his jaw, his neck and chest, her tongue trailing down his stomach to his penis. Grasping the base, she swirled her tongue around the head, before taking as much of him in her mouth as she could. He groaned in response, his fingers digging into her hair, as she slowly licked her way up and down his length, her hand moving in tandem with her lips. Minutes later she moved back up his body, straddling his pelvis and gripping him beneath her.

She lowered herself onto him, taking an inch of him at a time and basking in the feel of him as he filled her. Together they moaned as she settled down on his pelvis. Carla smiled down at him, biting her lip as she rose up until only the tip of him remained inside her, then agonizingly slowly, she slid back down. She repeated this motion again and again, gradually building to a steady rhythm.

As she rode him, Peter gazed at her face and its changing expressions as her pleasure grew. She was stunningly beautiful, and he reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her plump lips.

She looked down at him, biting her lip playfully and she squeezed her inner muscles around him, causing his eyes to close in sheer pleasure as a moan escaped him. His hands roamed her body, his thumbs lightly brushing across her breasts as he continued to pull her closer to him.

"Ah,ah,ah," she groaned out, "I'm in charge this time, Barlow" she whispered huskily, grabbing his hands in hers and bringing them to rest above his head on the plush pillow as she leaned down, her torso now covering his.

"Oh God," she moaned, when this shift in position changed her angle and she shuddered. Her hips never strayed from their set rhythm as she hungrily claimed his mouth with hers. He smiled against her, and as his tongue filled her mouth passionately and her clit was continuously stimulated as she rode him, he knew Carla was close to reaching her breaking point. His suspicions were confirmed as the pleasure she felt was so overwhelming, that she softly whimpered against his lips.

But she was in no hurry for this to end just yet. Breaking their kiss she sat up above him again. She shook her hair out of her face causing it to fall about her shoulders as she slowed her rhythm in an attempt to put off her release longer for minutes more. Peter's hands now gripped her hips and continued pushing himself deeper into her, moaning along with her with each thrust.

As the soft moonlight cascaded in through her bedroom window, casting a pale light upon their bodies, Carla pulled Peter hands, encouraging him to sit up with her, and he responded enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around her as she increased the tempo and now savagely rode him relentlessly. Faster and faster she moved, feeling her own orgasm growing closer and closer with each stroke she made, each time she moved forward her clit rubbed along base of his penis, causing her to whimper as a sheen of sweat overtook her body. Peter moved in tandem with her, his one arm circling her hips and his other gripping the back of her neck, and he continued to thrust upward as she moved back and forth, inching them both closer to breaking point. Just as she thought she would burst, her body reaching a level she could no longer control, she cried out as her orgasm overtook her. Wave after wave flushed over her but she continued to move above him, her arms gripping his body to hers, as she cried out his name. Peter, feeling Carla's muscles contracting around him tightly encouraged one last upward thrust, bringing about his own satisfied groan of release as he came deep inside of her. Gasping, he held her tightly to him, before collapsing backwards, pulling her gently down on his heaving chest, his strong arms holding her tightly against him as he felt her breathing slow down to normal, and they lay in each other's arms for some time afterwards, each feeling a sense of contentment after the day's events.


	15. Chapter 15

"Umm Maria?" Sean poked his head into Underworld's office, "there's some coppers here to see Mrs. Connor."

"Eh?" Maria's head popped up from the paperwork she was checking over, as the two officers stepped into the office, "Oh, umm I'm sorry but Carla's running a bit late this morning, she's on her way back from the bank. Is there something I can help you with? I'm Maria, her PA."

"Nice to meet you," the younger officer stated as he shook her outstretched hand, "this is officer O'Reilly, and I'm officer Paltry. We're just here to follow up on the incident involving Mrs Connor that occurred on March the 1st. We called around to her flat but she had already left."

"Incident?" Maria folded her arms across her chest, "what incident?"

"At the bar in Didsbury last Tuesday night?"

Before Maria could question further, the office door swung open and Carla walked in, her eyes taking in the sight before her, "what's all this, then?" she asked curiously

"Mrs. Connor, this is officer Paltry, and I'm officer O'Reilly. Do you remember us?" The older officer asked

Carla's eyes darted about the office, "should I?" she responded truthfully, and Maria's eyebrow raised

"From Didsbury, last Tuesday?" Paltry stated,

Maria watched as Carla's face drained of all colour momentarily before a smile graced her features and she shook her head slightly, "oh, of course, sorry. Not the greatest with faces and all that," she lied before turning to her PA, "Maria could you bring us some coffee love, please?"

Maria's eyebrow remained raised at her, "sure," she responded, "anything for you officers?"

"No thank you, we won't be long," O'Reilly answered with a smile,

"Alright, be back in a tick," Maria said, walking out of the office and throwing Carla a concerned look

"Sorry, about that," Carla said, dropping her purse on her desk and sitting down, "obviously my memory from that night is a bit hazy. Please sit down," she gestured to the seats across from her

"How are you feeling?" Paltry asked

"Yeah, fine. They managed to get it all out of my system at hospital, so..." she scratched her head awkwardly, "umm what can I do for you?"

"Well we're here to confirm that the lab results came back on the blister pack that was found, and it definitely was Rohypnol," O'Reilly explained as Carla bit her lip and nodded, "we just need to follow up with a few questions, if that's alright?"

"Yeah, of course," Carla sat back in her chair

"We know your mind will be a bit hazy from the time you ingested the drug onwards, but can you recall anything that occurred prior to that?"

"Such as what, exactly?" Carla asked.

"Well, how many drinks had you had prior to going to the bar that night?" Paltry asked

"None," she responded truthfully, "I had a DUI last November, and even though I were barely over the limit, I've been ensuring I cut back..."

"And how about when you arrived at the bar?"

"No, I stuck to fizzy water, and a lemonade, until one former client of mine insisted and bought me a wine, and I felt bad if I just chucked it, you know?"

"Do you know who that person was?" Paltry prodded

"Yeah, Paul. Paul Stokes."

"Did you have reason to be suspicious of this client's desire to buy you a drink?"

"Well, no of course not. I've worked with these men for years now," Carla responded, "we've been to multiple business mixers in the past where they've bought me drinks and vice versa," she folded her arms across her chest, "besides, I watched the bartender pour the wine into the glass and then hand it straight to me. Paul and I cheers'd, had a quick conversation and then I went to speak to Rory from Macnees."

Paltry scribbled down the details on a pad, "Right, we'll follow up with Mr. Stokes on that. Can you think of any moment when you may have left your drink unattended after receiving it from the bartender?" He lifted his gaze in time to see Carla's brow furrow, her eyes downcast as though remembering something, "Mrs. Connor?"

"I were bumped into," she answered in a low voice, "after Paul and I took a sip of our drinks, I was turned to face him, and we were chatting, and someone bumped into me really hard, and knocked me forward into Paul. He had to catch me before I fell flat on me face," she bit her lip and shook her head, "when I stood back upright, I turned to grab my glass thinking it probably got knocked over as well, but there it was, sitting a little further from me than I had put it. I just didn't think anything of it at that point, I thought - I thought maybe the bartender moved it to avoid it getting knocked over."

"Can you remember who may have bumped into you?"

She shook her head, rubbing her forehead in frustration with herself for not seeing it then, "no, it were packed at that side of the bar at that point. That's why I grabbed my glass and moved over to the other side where Rory was. I had been sat with him for a bit before I started drinking my wine again, and that's when things start to go fuzzy." She watched as the two officers nodded, both writing in their respective notepads, "God, you both must think I'm a right idiot."

O'Reilly lifted his eyes to rest on the now self-deprecating factory boss, "why would you think that, Mrs. Connor?"

"Because," she shrugged frustratedly, "It's the oldest trick in the book, innit? Bump into a woman and drop a roofie in her drink while she's distracted," she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into the flesh above her browbone, "I can't believe I were so stupid..."

"Mrs. Connor," O'Reilly stated gently, "you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You'd be surprised how many women who are as careful as you are, slip up by no fault of their own. Sexual predators can be incredibly devious and cunning. You mustn't blame yourself for this. You took all the precautions, he just managed to create an opening that you couldn't have foreseen."

"It's true," Paltry added, "Just be thankful that the bartender and your business associate managed to notice something was off. It could have turned much worse otherwise."

"Yeah," she nodded, mentally reminding herself to call Rory to thank him, "you're right, of course." She looked up, her eyes drifting between the two and she sighed heavily, "You're not gonna be able to find out who did this, are you?"

"To be honest, it will be hard to find out who it was, Mrs. Connor. We found no fingerprints, so it'll be difficult to pinpoint exactly who it was who pushed you and if it was that same person who also slipped you the roofie. But we are going to continue with the investigation, and if you can think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call us," Paltry stated as he and O'Reilly rose to their feet, handing a card to Carla, as she stood up from her chair,

"Cheers," she responded, "I appreciate everything, thank you."

"Just doing our job, Mrs. Connor," O'Reilly responded with a smile, "We'll be in touch."

"Thanks," she nodded, watching as they both filed out of the office. She collapsed into her chair, her hand coming up to rub her forehead just as Maria entered the office again, placing a cup of coffee in front of her.

"You going to fill me in then?" the younger woman asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "and don't try to change the subject or brush me off, Carla."

Carla raised her eyes to her PA, "Maria..."

"No, Carla, the truth!" Maria stated as she pulled up her chair, "you were supposed to be at Peter's that night. Said you ate something that turned your stomach. Now them coppers," she motioned over her shoulder with her thumb, "tell me you were in Didsbury in a bar that night, and some incident occurred. So come on then? What happened?"

Carla sighed, "alright, I'll tell you what happened just," she picked up her phone and began dialling a number, "just let me make this call first, okay?" At Maria's nod, she placed the receiver to her ear, "Rory! It's Carla, love. Yeah I'm doing well, and that's all down to you really. It's the reason I'm calling actually. Wondered if you have an hour to spare this afternoon so I can buy you a drink and maybe pick your brain a bit? That's great, how about The Rovers Return on Coronation Street, say noon-ish..."

* * *

Peter stood at the bar in the Rovers, smiling to himself as he played with the coaster, remembering the evening and morning he spent at Carla's flat before they both shared a taxi, with them dropping her off at the bank in town, while he headed back to open the Bookies.

He couldn't deny how much happier he'd been the past few days, and that was down to Carla. Their banter was effortless, her smile and dirty little giggle infectious.

And the sex...

Well, he couldn't deny it was the most exhilarating sex he's had in his life, and for a man who had his fair share of sexual partners, that was saying something.

They just connected: passionate and enticing, each time they fell into bed together it was simply mind-blowing.

He took a sip of his orange juice. Their constant fight for dominance in the bedroom was a ridiculous turn-on for him. He loved when she took control, but he couldn't deny the ego boost it gave him at how submissive she was with him. Carla: the strong, no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners, fought-her-ex-husband-off-when-he-tried-murder-her factory boss, would become almost like putty to his ministrations. Reluctantly so, he noted, but she definitely let go of some of her need to control things between the sheets this past weekend. And having this woman become so docile, so malleable, and compliant to his gentle commands, was such a thrill to him that he wondered if she had ever been that yielding with the men that came before him. Just the thought that he may be the only one to have ever seen her like that, caused an overwhelming sense of admiration of her, as well as a sense of pride at just how lucky he was. His cock twitched in his trousers, and he coughed slightly, adjusting his stance to subdue his now growing arousal as Steve came to lean on the bar next to him.

"Alright," Steve began, "what's the grin for?"

"Oh, nothing Steve mate," Peter replied, "Just thinking is all,"

"Hmmm, and would a certain factory owner have anything to do with that?" Steve smirked knowingly at him

"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?" Peter responded

"Hey, Peter? Isn't it?" a voice stated from beside him and he and Steve both turned their heads towards where Rory now stood next to them

Peter nodded, "Yeah, and ummm sorry your name again?" he held his hand out to the man next to him

"Rory," the man stated, gripping Peter's hand in a firm handshake, before reaching over towards Steve, "Steve, right?"

"Yeah, nice to see you again, mate," Steve responded, shaking the man's outstretched hand, "What brings you here?"

"Carla asked to meet me for a quick drink, though I'm sure it may have something to do with the coppers doing their investigation into what happened at the mixer," Rory answered

"Oh, right," Peter answered, his interest piqued, "did they come up with anything?"

"No, they couldn't find fingerprints on the blister pack so they were just looking for anymore information that we may have overlooked," Rory stated, his head turning as he heard the door open, "and there she is! Carla!" he stated, reaching for her and kissing her on the cheek, "right on time, as always,"

"When have you known me not to be?" she winked cheekily at him, before locking eyes with the man behind him, "Hiya Peter," she greeted him with a smile

"Hi Carla, you're looking good," he responded playfully

"Ahh well I had a very relaxing night last night," she responded cheekily, "must have been just what I needed," she turned to Rory, "what are you having Rory?"

"Oh, I'll have a glass of red wine thank you," Rory responded, "but I'll get these in Carla,"

"Uhh actually, neither of you are paying, these are on the house," Steve said quietly,

"Oh, well, cheers, Steve," Carla said, her eyes glancing between him and Peter, "umm could I get a glass of red as well please, as well a glass for white for Maria, she's just on her way..."

"Sure, you go sit down, I'll bring them over."

Carla turned to the bookie, "gonna join us?"

"Won't I be gatecrashing a business meeting?" Peter asked

"Well, no," she scratched her head, "it's actually umm, it's about what happened last week. Maria knows now, so you may as well come over and find out what I were told by the coppers as well."

"Yeah, okay," he smiled and rubbed her arm affectionately, "I'll just get a refill, and head over."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, saw the four of them seated in a booth, going over the details both Carla and Rory were given by the officers.

"So you've no idea who would've slipped something in her drink?" Maria asked Rory, "Has this happened before at any of your business mixers?"

"No, it were the first time it's ever occurred as far as I'm aware." Rory responded, "I'm just glad we were able to figure it out before something bad happened."

"Yeah, me and all," Carla responded, finishing off the wine in her glass, "And I have you to thank for that, Rory. Honestly, I'm in your debt."

"Well, maybe the next time I need to place an order, you could knock a bit of the price off and we'll call it even?" Rory winked,

"You cheeky..." Carla poked him with her finger, "alright, I'll see what we can do."

'I'm just gonna nip out for a fag," Peter stated, as he rose to his feet, "Car, could you come for a bit? Need to run something by you about that present for Simon."

Carla looked a bit perplexed but nodded, "oh yeah, sure," she pushed herself out of the booth and turned back to Rory, "You'll still be here, right?"

"Yeah, I've another half hour before I got to be back, so how about I buy us one more drink for the road, eh?"

Carla nodded, "yeah, sounds good," she grabbed her purse from the booth, "just uh wait five minutes before ordering yeah?"

"You're the boss!" he mock saluted her,

"As long as you recognize..." she chided him, giving Maria a wink before following Peter out to the back garden.

Maria chuckled into her almost empty glass, "I can't believe she never said anything about it to me," she said in a low voice

"Happens she were just embarrassed, though she shouldn't be. It certainly wasn't her fault," Rory stated

"Yeah, well I can see why she might be embarrassed. She apparently asked Frank Foster out for dinner after she'd been slipped the roofie. She's probably worried about what else she may have done unknowingly..."

"She didn't ask out Frank," Rory said thoroughly confused, "at least not after she was slipped that roofie."

"How do you know?" Maria asked

"Because she didn't leave my side the whole time," Rory responded knowingly, "I made sure of it the moment she started acting intoxicated. Other than making a phone call while I was speaking to the bartender, she didn't talk to anyone but me."

"That's odd," Maria said, "Carla said that Frank told her she asked him out, and he had assumed she had drank too much,"

"Nah, other than Foster reminding me to call Carla that night, he was barely on his own with her. He did try, if I recall, but he then almost disappeared about the time she was slipped the roofie. Didn't see him the rest of the night. I just assumed he went home."

"Why would he tell her that she did then?" Maria asked, feeling an uncomfortable ball forming in the pit of her stomach

"I dunno, maybe he was pulling her leg?" Rory offered with a shrug, "Or maybe she asked him prior to her getting slipped the roofie? I mean, I did head to the toilets for a bit, so they may chatted then..."

Maria polished off the remainder of her white wine, and nodded with a crooked smile, "yeah," she acquiesced, "yeah that's probably what it was. Her mind's a bit fuzzy from the night she might just be getting a bit confused."

"Understandable," Rory stated, "from what I saw, it has one hell of an effect on a person. I'm going to hit the loo quickly, and then same again?"

Maria nodded with a smile, "Cheers," she responded, watching as Rory pushed himself up and out of the booth. Her fingers began drumming along her now empty wine glass as she mulled over this new information.

She couldn't help that uneasy feeling that Frank had more to do with this mixer business then it appeared. And she was going to make damn sure to find out just how involved he actually was...

* * *

Carla fell into step behind Peter as they entered the Rovers back garden.

"Simon's present?" She teased

"Sorry, I couldn't think of anything else off the fly," Peter apologized with a smile, turning to face her, "I just needed to get you alone,"

"Oh aye?" she smiled, leaning against the wall and biting her lip, "and why's that?"

Peter's expression turned serious as he locked eyes on hers. He stepped forward and cupped her cheek, "because I feel responsible for what happened to you last week..."

Carla was taken aback by his words, her eyes widening and she shook her head in confusion, "what? Peter why?"

"Because if I hadn't been such an arrogant ass to you that night, you wouldn't have left the flat," he answered regretfully, "you wouldn't have gone to that mixer and none of this would have happened..."

Carla sighed and nodded, "okay, well that's one way of looking at it," she agreed, watching as his face fell further, "but here's another: if you hadn't been an arrogant ass that night, then I wouldn't have left the flat. I wouldn't have gone to that mixer, and I wouldn't have been slipped a roofie. If I hadn't of been slipped that roofie, then you wouldn't have taken me to hospital, and you wouldn't have stayed the night and I wouldn't have been taken care of by you," she smiled at him, "We never would have that dinner do-over, and Simon would never have crashed it. We wouldn't have watched Ratatouille, and we wouldn't have slept together. We wouldn't have attempted making dinner with Si, and we wouldn't have blown up my oven -"

"-_you_ wouldn't have blown up your oven-" he mumbled teasingly and she slapped his arm playfully

"Whatever, Barlow - and we wouldn't have had dinner at Ken and Dierdre's; and you and I wouldn't have spent the better part of the weekend together." She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer to her, "Peter, the only person to blame for slipping me that roofie, is whoever slipped me that roofie! I may have been peeved at our first attempt at dinner last week, but," she sighed, "I wouldn't change anything that happened. Okay?"

Peter nodded, and smiled "okay," he responded

She leaned in and kissed him passionately, pulling back so her lips hovered over his, "how long do you reckon it'll take to talk about this 'present for Simon' thing?"

Peter wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, "what did you have in mind?"

She captured his lips between hers again, "got your flat keys...?"

They ran across the cobbles towards the Bookies flat, giggling as their eyes darted about quickly to ensure no one saw them. As he put the key in the lock, he pushed her back into the door, his lips crashing hungrily against hers as he pushed the door open and closed it immediately behind them. They continued to kiss at the base of the stairs, and Peter began thinking of just where in the flat he wanted to have her. But as his tongue continued to wrestle with hers, he mentally counted the stairs leading up to the flat and despaired at how many there suddenly seemed to be. The heat between her legs and her grinding up against him instead caused him to reach down and grasp the back of her thighs, lifting her up and carrying up a total of three stairs before placing her down on her back, his body laying atop of hers, his hands gripping the hair on both sides of her face with a fervor he couldn't rationally explain.

He wanted to consume her, and in that instant, the few remaining steps that led to the inside safety of his flat just seemed too damn far.

Her hands gripped his biceps, as she steadied herself from sliding down the stairs beneath him, planting her feet on the steps on either side of his knees, and she slowly edged her hands up, her fingers curling in his hair and pulling his head towards hers as she continued to crash her lips upon his.

Peter was losing his self control in the stairwell. He could feel the unforgiving wood beneath his knees and could only assume how uncomfortable it would be for her, but she wasn't complaining, her ministrations as desperate for this contact as his was. And so instead he focused on the way her hair felt in his hand as he gripped the base of her skull while his other hand slid down her body. He heard her kick off her boots and listened as they tumbled down the stairs behind him. Without thinking, he tugged at her pantyhose, raising himself away from her long enough to pull them off of her and toss them behind them onto the floor by the door. He quickly undid his belt buckle, and pushed his trousers and boxer briefs down past his knees.

"Do you want me?" He whispered huskily as he climbed back over her

She whimpered against him as she tried to grind against him, only to have him shift away from her, "answer me, Carla." He gently ordered her

"Yes," she moaned, the wood of the steps digging into her back relentlessly. She knew she was going to regret this choice of location for their quickie when the bruises along her spine would undoubtedly appear the following morning, but for right now she didn't care. Before she'd finished answering him, her black lace knickers she'd worn had been pulled off her body, the rush of cool air on the now exposed, aching flesh between her legs a welcome feeling to quell her senses before she lost herself entirely to him.

She moaned when his fingers slid inside her, circling and thrusting and she bucked against him.

God, she wanted him; and as she stared up at him between her hooded lids, he steadied himself between her legs and she bit her lip in anticipation.

Peter worked himself into her, feeling her legs open wider to accommodate him in their awkward position. He paused upon entering her entirely, pressing his forehead to hers as he relished just how tight she was around him. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he began to build a pounding rhythm. This was not their slow sensual sex of late. This was going to be hard and fast, and oh so satisfying.

He drove into her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning loudly with each thrust he made into her.

He grunted against her for minutes on end. They were so loud and vocal, he was sure the locals would her them in the Rovers, and he silently hoped they would. He wanted everyone to know that he was sleeping with Carla, and that he was the one causing those adorable yet feral, lust-filled noises to emit from behind those pillowy lips of hers.

He looked down upon her as he continued to thrust faster and deeper inside her. Her eyes closed in complete ecstasy as she gripped him to her, her orgasm beginning to overtake her. He reached down with one hand, using the other to steady on the step beside her head, and he began to viciously rub her clit between his thrusts. Unable to hold back any longer, Carla screamed out, her thighs squeezing around his waist and her fingers gripping into his shoulders. The feel of her squeezing around him was enough to drive him over the edge, and with two final thrusts, he released himself inside her before dipping his head and capturing her lips with his own.

They both lay there for a few minutes, each trembling in each other's embrace while continuing to kiss hungrily. Wanting the moment to last a few moments longer before they rushed back to the Rovers...

* * *

Frank watched as Carla and Peter exited the bookies flat, both smiling like love-sick teenagers, as they headed back towards the Rovers back garden, and he felt his blood boil.

He had just been walking towards the pub when he saw the two of them giggling and dashing towards Peter's flat. Watched as Peter pressed her back into the door and lay a smouldering kiss upon her lips as he pushed it open, and quickly closed it behind them.

Frank didn't know what drove him to the door of the bookies flat, but that's where he next found himself. Listening to the moans and grunts of the two inside as they engaged in a what he could only surmise was a quickie in the hallway.

This was the second time he caught them in the act. The first being in the Rovers back garden following his dinner meeting with Carla. He enviously watched as Peter pushed her against the wall, commanding her to bend to his every whim before pulling her into the hut where he bent her over the table. He felt his jealousy rising as she then pushed him back, straddling him atop the bench and riding him until she came. They had been quiet that time, so as not too arouse any unwanted attention. But this time, they almost seemed to be goading him with their moans. He heard her scream Peter's name, and he balled his hands into fists, angrily pushing himself away from the door, and marching across the street to the bench across from the hairdresser's, where he remained as they exited the flat some minutes later, heading back towards the pub and quickly fixing their disheveled hair, as if they hadn't just ripped his heart into a thousand shreds.

He needed to plan his next move. He needed to drive a wedge between them, and ultimately woo Carla to him. He wanted to be the only man to make her cry out like that, and he was more than sure he would be able to if he could just remove Peter flamin' Barlow from the picture...


	16. Chapter 16

"Ah, just as I was about to give up looking for you," Frank stated, a charming smile gracing his face as he approached the booth where Carla, Maria, and Rory were sitting, happily noting that the bookie was nowhere in sight in the pub.

"Oh," Carla swallowed the sip of wine she had just taken, "Hiya Frank!" she greeted him, overcoming her initial confusion at seeing him wander into her local on a Monday afternoon and still managing to smile warmly at him

"Hello Rory," Frank reached out to shake the man's hand, "Good to see you again!"

"Frank," Rory shook the outstretched hand and nodded, before making a move to stand up.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, not at all, just a friendly catchup." Rory replied, "Anyways, I best be heading back" he said as he slid out of the booth followed by Carla, "I'll be in touch about placing that order later this fall, Carla" he turned, drawing her in for a hug as they kissed each other's cheek affectionately, causing Frank to narrow his eyes at them...a look that did not go unnoticed by Maria

"Thanks," Carla said, "honestly Rory, for everything."

Rory smiled at her, "it was my pleasure," he turned to the woman still seated in the booth, "lovely to meet you, Maria!"

"And you," Maria said

Carla watched as Rory walked away, giving a small wave as he exited through the doors. Turning back to Frank, she crossed her arms over her chest, and quirked an eyebrow at him curiously, "I'm sorry, but did we have a meeting, Frank?" she asked

"No, no," he responded pleasantly, "I just happened to be passing through and thought I'd stop in and check on the progress of my order," he leaned over, placing his fingers gently on her waist and planting a chaste kiss on her cheek

Carla accepted the kiss politely, eyeing him briefly, "Just passing?" Carla repeated, keeping a friendly smile on her face as she sat back down in the booth, while ensuring that her sweet tone masked her annoyance. If there was one thing she hated, it was being micro-managed by a client.

"Mmm, yeah," he put his hands in his pants pockets, "I always like to keep at least one step ahead of things. Learned the hard way that there's nothing worse than hindsight. You know the saying, 'Never look backwards or you'll fall down the stairs...'," he smirked at her, "I do apologize of course if I came at a bad time. I wasn't trying to catch you with your _knickers_ down, after all..." his eyes danced triumphantly when the glass in her hand paused as it lifted towards her lips.

Maria watched closely as the factory boss took a sip of her wine, noting how Carla shifted slightly in her seat. She perched her eyebrow curiously at her friend's obvious discomfort. It wasn't like Carla to be ruffled by, well, anyone really; but something Frank said had visibly caught her off guard. The blonde moved her now suspicious gaze upon a rather satisfied looking Frank, and she narrowed her eyes at him. She was missing something for sure...

Carla's tongue flicked out along her lips as she caught the remaining drops of liquid that lingered there and lowered her glass, "Heaven forbid," she chuckled half-heartedly, suddenly very aware of her slightly bruised back and wondering if her quickie with Peter wasn't as discreet as they believed it to be...

"Well, while I'm here I thought I'd stop and get a quick bite, can I top you up?" he gestured to her wine glass

"Oh, that's very kind of you Frank, but we need to be getting back and all, and rescue poor Hayley, hadn't we?" Carla replied looking over to her PA

"Well, surely Maria can keep an eye on things at the factory for a bit," Frank flashed the blonde a smile that was painfully returned, "there was something I wanted to run by you, Carla, if that's alright with you?"

"Oh," Carla began, unable to think up an excuse that wouldn't potentially damage her relationship with her client, "Uhh, yeah, sure."

"Well, I'll head back then," Maria stated grabbing her purse and rising from the booth, "nice to see you again, Frank," she said politely

"A pleasure as always," Frank responded, "I won't keep her too long."

Maria turned to Carla, "see you soon."

"Ta, love," Carla called after her, before smiling up at Frank

"So, top up?" He asked,

"Go on then, but just a lime and soda thanks," she nodded

"Coming right up," he smiled and turned to the bar.

* * *

Maria was deep in thought as she walked back to the factory, her mind so preoccupied she didn't see the man in front of her until she walked straight into him.

"Oh steady on there, Maria love," Peter joked as he reached out and grasped both her shoulders to stabilize her.

"Oh sorry Peter, my mind were somewhere else," She sighed

"Anything wrong?" he asked

Maria glanced back towards the pub, "Oh, it's just that client of ours, Frank Foster. He's just sat in the pub right now with Carla discussing something or other."

"What about him?"

"I dunno I just get this weird vibe off of him, that's all. I dunno, just ignore me, it's probably nothing," she shrugged it off

"No, no, come on," Peter pressed curiously, "weird vibe, how?"

Maria crossed her arms, "Well, the night after Carla got slipped that roofie, she and I had gone to Frank's to secure a contract with him," Peter nodded for her to continue, "After we had initially made the plans, Carla had backed out of going and I was going to go on me own because Frank had been very flirty with me and Carla thought he might respond better to just me; but then that morning Carla changed her mind and we went together as originally planned."

"Go on," Peter felt a knot starting to form in his stomach

"Well, when we arrived at his place, he only had eyes for Carla," she said, "which I get, I mean, obviously he were only flirting with me because maybe he thought he wouldn't have a chance with her,"

"Flirting with the friend to make the woman he actually wants jealous," Peter stated, "yeah, I know the tactic..."

"Exactly!" Maria agreed, "so he were really flirting with her, but she seemed oblivious. And I mean, look I admit: at the time I thought he might be good for her, you know? Maybe move her on from...well," she looked at him uncomfortably,

"me.." Peter finished and she nodded

"Yeah," she whispered, "anyways I had excused meself for a few minutes, and that's when he apparently told her that he had been worried about her after the night before; that she had asked him out for dinner at the mixer, but he understood that she had been intoxicated and perhaps didn't remember."

"Well, obviously she weren't drunk but she may have done so under the influence of the roofie, maybe?"

"Well, see that's what I thought, but that's the thing, Peter," She responded quickly, "When you and Carla went out back at the Rovers earlier, Rory was filling me in on what happened that night," she began as Peter nodded, "I was saying that the reason she probably didn't tell me was that she was embarrassed especially since she had apparently asked Frank out when she was slipped the drug. Only Rory said that was impossible, because he didn't take his eye off her the moment she started acting intoxicated."

"What are you saying exactly, Maria?" Peter pressed

"I'm saying, according to Rory, Carla didn't go near Frank after she was slipped that drug," Maria answered, "She made a phone call, to you, and she were with Rory the rest of the time,"

"So, then according to this Foster bloke, when exactly did she supposedly ask him out?"

"That's just it, Peter," Maria turned back to glance at the pub, her voice lowering, "I don't think she did ask him out to dinner. I don't think she were alone with him for even a minute that night; not for lack of trying on his part before she were slipped that drug though, according to Rory..."

"So what? He made it up?" At Maria's shrug, he simply shook his head, "why would he do that?"

"I dunno, Peter," Maria sighed, "I mean, if he fancied her why not just ask her out? Why go through the trouble of making her feel low and embarrassed first-"

"Because then she'd feel obligated," Peter interrupted, feeling the anger rising in him, "less chance of him being rejected that way..."

"That's so slimy," Maria sighed, shaking her head, "I'll tell you what, I'll be glad when his order is finished. She don't need someone messing with her head like that...or worse..."

"No, she doesn't," Peter responded his eyes glancing over Maria towards the pub then back to the blonde, "wait, you don't think he was the one to-"

Maria licked her lips apprehensively, her eyes glancing anywhere but into the brown eyes of the bookie as they burned into her

"You do, don't you?" He felt his chest constrict tightly, as horrific scenarios flashed through his mind, "you think he slipped her that roofie?" Maria finally met his eyes, and gave him a half-hearted shrug in response.

"I don't know..."

He felt a hot rage burn within him, coupled with an overpowering desire to protect Carla from any harm that might befall her. He exhaled deeply, "right, I'm gonna deal with this..." he stepped around Maria, his eyes unmoving from the Rovers Return.

"Whoa, hang on," Maria grabbed his arm and spun him towards her, "what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna have word with this Foster bloke-" his hands balled into fists as he thought of pummelling the smarmy bastard, "let him know exactly what I think of him."

"No, you can't Peter," Maria said firmly, "He's still a client, and a lucrative one at that," she responded, "you do anything that might cause him to pull out of his contract and you mark my words, Carla will have your guts for garters," she chuckled half-heartedly, "and mine and all..."

"So what, Maria?" he dropped his voice low, "we just going to let him get away with this?"

"Peter, there's no proof it was him, alright?" Maria placated him, "Rory said he didn't even see Frank around the time Carla was drugged," she gripped his shoulders, "he's just a smarmy git who used a situation to his advantage to try and score a date. Carla's smart, Peter. She'll soon suss him out."

"I can't stand by and do nothing while he takes advantage of her, Maria, or worse-" he turned back towards the pub only to be halted as Maria darted in front and blocked his path once more

"No you listen to me, Peter," she said placing her hands in front of her, "if you ever want to have a chance with Carla, do yourself a favour and don't make her into the damsel in distress you need to save! No matter how much she may like you, she won't stand for you playing the hero, Peter." Peter's eyes softened as Maria's words hit him, "you'll lose her before you ever get her, alright?"

"Okay," he acquiesced, "okay, you're right. But we can't just do nothing, Maria."

"And we're not going to," she responded, "Look, I'll talk to her after work and tell her my suspicions, alright?"

Peter nodded reluctantly, "okay,"

"Peter, I know you care about her. I could see it in the way you looked at her today in the pub," Maria pleaded with him, "so don't ruin a chance with her by messing with her business. That place means the world to her. It's the only thing she has left of Paul and Liam. You cause her to lose a contract that could throw us into liquidation, and I promise you, you'll lose her forever."

"I won't," he promised, "you're right. I'll keep my feelings and suspicions about Frank to myself...for now."

"Thank you," She sighed appreciatively, "I best get back to it, before she gets back." She gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading towards the factory.

Peter watched as she climbed the steps to Underworld, waiting for her to enter the factory before turning and heading purposefully back to the Rovers.

He may not be able to confront that smarmy bastard, but he was about to show Frank, and anyone else who may be in the pub right now, that Carla was his...


	17. Chapter 17

Carla watched as Frank dug into his hotpot, her eyebrow piqued as she pondered his request.

"So, what do you think?" He asked, "you up for it?"

"I don't know, Frank," she answered, leaning back against the sofa, "I'm not normally into those kind of things,"

"I remember seeing you at a few in the past," he said, plunging his fork into the bowl in front of him, "why the hesitation, now?"

"That were mostly down to Tony," she scratched her nose absentmindedly, "he just wanted me there to flirt with potential clients."

"And to show off the gorgeous woman he was engaged to," Frank winked, "I have to admit, I was incredibly envious of him the first time we met,"

"Oh please," she grinned, "I remember the woman you were with that night. She was unbelievably stunning. She was a model or sommit, wasn't she?" Frank nodded as he chewed, "it were dead awkward sitting next to her. Felt like a right hot mess."

"Hot, definitely," he said, "mess, not in the slightest." he took a sip of his pint, "Don't get me wrong, Amber was a looker to be sure, but absolutely nowt going on upstairs," he made a whistling noise, his finger making a motion around his head and rolling his eyes comically at her, and Carla couldn't help the laugh that escaped her, "I mean, why do you think I stuck with you both the whole night?" he smiled at her charmingly as he eyed her up and down, "I mean, other than the obvious of course…"

"Well, I can't fault you there," she smirked at him, "I fell for that smooth Scottish accent too…"

Frank let out a loud laugh as he dabbed his mouth with the napkin, "you see? That's what sets you apart from other women, Carla," he leaned forward, pushing his finished hotpot out of the way and resting his elbows on the table, "you've got this incredible sense of humour, you're smart, and as for looks, well," He eyed her appreciatively, "even just sitting in this pub I feel as though I don't deserve to be in your presence."

She felt her stomach flip at his compliment, a blush rising slightly to her cheeks. Foster was definitely a charmer.

"I've already given you a deal on your order, Franky" she smiled cheekily at him, "no need for the flattery."

Frank chuckled, "still can't take a compliment I see," his palms dropped to his thighs, "okay I'll back off, for now…" he leaned back against the cushions, "but seriously Carla, the event will be a great opportunity to connect with potential suppliers, clients etcetera," he reached for his pint, and clocking her hesitation he continued, "come on, it's one evening! And hey, it's at the Lowry, so it's local. I can pick you up and drop you off, and if it's utter rubbish, we can leave early. Come on, what do you say?"

"Hey, love," the smooth voice drew her attention to where Peter now stood beside the booth, a cheeky smirk on his face as he leaned down and captured her lips with his own. She was so taken off guard by his boldness that she didn't get the opportunity to pull back, instead allowing him to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, his thumb stroking her cheek possessively.

Remembering herself, she raised her fingers to his jaw and gently pushed him away, offering him a smile before licking her lips, "hi, umm, wh-what are you doing here?" Carla asked the bookie, her eyes darting embarrassingly around the pub where Becky and Liz stood gawking, while Steve smiled smugly at his friend.

"Sorry to interrupt," Peter said, turning to an incensed looking Frank and smirking at him, "can't help meself, you know," he winked at him

"Not at all," Frank gritted out behind a thin smile, "can't say I blame you,"

Peter turned back to Carla, "I just wanted to stop by and give you these," he pulled his hand out from behind his back and presented her with a small but beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers.

Carla's eyes widened at the colourful arrangement, noting they were not from the corner shop and wondering when he had a chance to visit a florist.

As if reading her mind, Peter reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Carla's ear, "I had to run into town to the bank and when I saw these in the flower shop I just couldn't resist." It wasn't a complete lie; he definitely saw the flowers in the shop in town; but it happened to be the only destination he had visited after bumping into Maria.

"I uhh, I don't know what to say, really. They're beautiful, Peter."

"They're in good company then," he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before kneeling down next to the booth, "Simon wanted to know if you're free for dinner tonight?"

"Simon, eh?" she raised an eyebrow

Peter laughed and held his hands up in mock surrender, "I swear, he wants to get a pizza in town. You up for it?"

"Uhh, yeah okay, but can I call you later to finalize the time and all?" she glanced and smiled at Frank, "I'm just in the middle of a meeting…"

"Of course, I'll be at the Bookies. Give me a call when you can," he stood up, his fingers grasping Carla's chin gently and kissing her once more, "see you later," he turned to Frank, who had clocked onto Carla's obvious discomfort at the public display of affection, "my apologies again for the interruption."

"Not necessary," Frank held out his hand, grinning at the bookie as he did so, "I completely understand. Nice to see you again, and say hello to that little lad of yours."

Carla watched as Peter walked out of the pub, before turning back to Frank, "I'm so sorry about that."

"Please don't apologize, I don't blame the man in the slightest," he smiled at her, "I have to say though, I didn't realize you were off the market, as it were,"

Carla sighed, "yeah, neither did I," she mumbled in embarrassment, "so," she quickly changed the subject, "about the charity event this Friday-"

Frank leaned forward, "hey, if you need a few days to mull it over, that's alright," he took a sip of his pint, "besides, I understand if you need to run it by your 'boyfriend' first," his lips tugged into a satisfied smirk as anger danced across her features

"No, Frank," she smiled rather dangerously at him. "I don't need to think it over and I certainly don't answer to anyone…" she held his gaze for a moment, "I think you're right that it would be a missed opportunity to meet some new suppliers and potential clients; and it is for a good cause, so yeah! I'll accompany you."

Frank was genuinely thrown but delighted by her response and smiled, "well, that's fantastic! I'll confirm with them this afternoon and send you the details later."

Carla finished off her lime and soda, "sounds like a plan," she slid out of the booth, "I really should be heading back to the factory, though." She reached for the flowers and her purse as Frank rose from his seat as well, "thanks for the drink, and we'll talk soon then?"

"Absolutely," he planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, "enjoy the rest of your day," he stated cheerfully as she headed towards the door, "oh, and your dinner date tonight." he called after her, smirking as she stiffened slightly before squaring her shoulders and heading out of the Rovers.

Once on the street, she glanced towards the factory, then towards the bookies.

She was ready to burst into the betting shop and have it out with Peter for that embarrassing display of his, and even took a few steps towards it before she thought better of it and halted, sharply spinning on her heels, and marching purposefully instead towards Underworld. She was too hot under the collar right now and she knew the bubbling rage would only wind up with the both of them naked, and as much as an angry fuck might be just what she needed, she simply couldn't allow it to happen right now.

No, she needed to cool off.

She would deal with him later...

* * *

Maria tepidly approached Carla after the staff left for the day. The factory boss had been in quite the mood when she wandered in after her meeting with Frank, and Maria had initially assumed he had said something to upset her. But as Carla stomped about the office, mumbling under her breath about male egos and pissing contests, Maria deduced that Peter had somehow found his way into the pub, and couldn't help but suppress the laughter she felt brewing inside at Carla's flustered demeanour.

She snickered slightly as Carla had called to Hayley, asking to bring her a vase for the bouquet she had brought in. She then stood at her desk, grabbing a pair of scissors from the drawer like a woman possessed, and cut through the plastic surrounding the flowers, before furiously snipping the ends off the stems; each one more forcefully than the last, all the while muttering angrily to herself. When the last stem was cut, she flung the scissors down on the desk, grasped the vase and shifted it in front of her. She then began gently arranging the flowers in the vase, the anger seemingly evaporating off her as she moved the flowers around the vase almost lovingly, and poured some water into the base, a smile gracing her face as she leaned down to smell one of the peonies. As quickly as the anger disappeared, it came back with a vengeance and with a huff, she picked up the vase and placed it irately on the cabinet before sitting down in her chair, and typing furiously on her keyboard.

Maria stifled a chuckle as she watched Carla's moods shift before her very eyes. Despite all their history she couldn't deny it: the woman was hot as hell when she was fuming. She could definitely see why Liam was so drawn to her, and Tony for that matter. The woman exuded passion in all her emotions; anger, happiness, love, lust…and yet was completely unreadable.

She was a walking enigma, and Maria couldn't help but be fascinated by her.

"Carla?" she began slowly, "Umm, can I have a word?"

"You can have several," Carla quipped back with a smirk, "What's up, love?"

Maria rolled her chair in front of Carla's desk, "It's about Frank,"

"What about Frank?"

Maria took a deep breath, "I think he may have misled you about what happened at the mixer..."

Carla's head popped up from the paperwork she was signing, "How'd you mean?"

"Well, he told you, that you asked him out when you were 'intoxicated' right?" at her nod, Maria continued, "only Rory told me that other than you making a phone call, the only person you talked to after that drug hit your system was him."

Carla's brow furrowed as she leaned back in her chair, "I don't understand..."

"Rory told me that he didn't take his eye off of you for one minute after the drug started affecting you. Frank didn't come near you nor did you go near him," she stated, "in fact, Rory said Frank all but disappeared after you had that drink."

Carla exhaled the breath she had been holding, "are you sure?"

"Quite sure," Maria responded

Carla rose from her seat and she paced about her office, raising her thumb nail to her mouth absentmindedly, "Why?" she breathed out, "why would he do that?"

"I don't know, Carla," Maria shrugged, "Maybe he thought you wouldn't have gone out with him if he simply asked you?"

"Yeah, well happens I've just agreed to go to a charity dinner with him this Friday. So that won't be awkward at all now will it...?" she shook her head in annoyance with herself, _'I can't believe I got played like this! How the hell am I going to back out of this now without losing him as a client?'_ she contemplated to herself as she paced the office, before a thought raced into her mind, "Wait," she turned to her PA, her eyes suddenly blazing, "did you tell this to anyone else?"

Maria swallowed shakily, "like who?"

"Oh let me think," Carla stepped around the desk purposefully, "runs a bookies, black leather jacket?"

Maria looked away sheepishly, "I may have mentioned it to Peter..."

Carla nodded, and chuckled humourlessly, "So that's what that little display was all about..." she muttered before grabbing her purse and coat and flinging them over her arm, "you know what? You can lock up tonight," she called over her shoulder

"Me-Me?" Maria stuttered

"Call it penance," Carla stated as she headed out of the office and out of the factory.

* * *

Carla entered the Bookies, her eyes scanning for punters, before hearing a voice call out,

"Sorry, we're closed," Peter walked down the few steps from the backroom, and smiled when he saw who it was, "Oh hiya love," he said, "I wasn't expecting you to drop in-"

Carla didn't answer, simply turning and locking the door to the shop. Peter watched as her fingers grasped the closed sign and flicked it over to face Rosamund Street, and he felt his trousers twitch. But when she faced him once more, he felt himself take an involuntary step back. Her eyes were burning into his, as she sauntered around the desk and closed the gap between them.

"What's going on, Carla?" He asked her hesitantly

"Are you deliberately messing with my head?" she asked him pointedly

Peter shook his head in confusion, "What? Of course I'm not-"

"So you didn't go into the Rovers earlier to simply engage in a pissing contest with a client of mine?"

"Look Carla, I can explain,"

"Oh, save it, Peter!" she nearly shouted at him, "Maria's told me everything." Peter lowered his gaze from her, which only fuelled her anger further, "So, all that PDA was simply to warn off Frank, was it? Have you any idea how much you embarrassed me?"

"Car, I didn't mean to-"

"I were humiliated, Peter!" she stepped around him

"Alright yes, yes I was trying to warn off that Foster bloke after what Maria told me about him lying to try to score a date with you, I admit that!" he acquiesced, "but I wasn't trying to humiliate you in front of all those people, Carla," he pleaded with her, "I wasn't trying to make you into the lunchtime gossip show,"

"You think I care about that?" She spun to face him, "I weren't humiliated because you kissed me in front of everyone Peter, I'm humiliated because I believed that-" she stopped herself suddenly, an embarrassed flush crossing her features

"because you believed, what?" he prodded, stepping closer to he, "because what, Carla?"

"That you actually cared about me and wanted something more than to just fuck me when it suited you!" she shouted at him

His eyes blazed as he walked towards her, watching as she stepped backwards until her back pressed against the wall, "is that how little you think of me?" he asked, "that I only want you around for a fuck and nothing more?"

Carla swallowed, "Those were the conditions of your offer after all, weren't it?" she answered in a low voice, "of your proposed _casual relationship_?"

Peter shook his head disbelievingly, "you know as well as I do that there is nothing casual about this, Carla," he reached out and cupped her face, "you know there is nothing casual about us..."

The atmosphere in the shop had changed dramatically. What was once tense and doused with frustration, was now charged with a heavy and enticing electrical force. She should be furious with him, but as she gazed at him, her eyes flickering between his brown orbs and his lips, she couldn't help but feel that pull towards him. He aroused her like no other ever had before. Her breathing quickened as her heart pounded in her chest. His eyes were wet with lust as they roamed her body, before he leaned forward and captured her lips passionately with his own.

"Drop your bag and your coat, Carla," he demanded through his kisses as he pushed against her, smiling as she gasped at the feel of his arousal against her, "let me live out the fantasy I've had since the day you first walked into this place…"

As his lips feverishly and hungrily kissed hers, he pushed her backwards; up the stairs and into the small room off the back, and she couldn't stop the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. God she loved the way he made her feel; no matter how angry she may have been with him, she loved the way he made her skin tingle; the way he made her stomach flip; the way he aroused her to the deepest recesses of her soul.

Once in the privacy of his small office, Peter's fingers deftly began pulling at the soft top she had on. He groaned as she pulled his belt open and made quick work of his zipper, pushing his jeans down his body. His lips pressed along her jaw and down her soft and delicate neck as she lifted his t-shirt up and over his head. He grasped the hemline of her mauve shirt and pushed it up and over her shoulders, leaving her clad in her lacy bra. His fingers reached into the waistline of her skirt and he yanked her forward towards him.

He dropped to his knees, his tongue trailing down her abdomen as he pulled her skirt and stockings down her legs, yanking her boots off one by one and flinging the bundled skirt and pantyhose to the floor, earning a gasp from her and further enticing his desire. He rose to his feet again, his hand grasping the hair at the nape of her neck and pulling it back sharply, roughly exposing her neck to him as she grunted slightly, her pelvis grinding against his. His teeth continued to nip along her collarbone until her moans of pleasure became too much too handle.

Grasping her thighs he lifted her up and set her down onto his desk, pushing her back until she was lying flat. He took hold of her knickers and slid them off her body, then quickly unclasping her bra and flinging the material over his shoulder before pushing his own boxers down and kicking them away from his feet. He leant down and kissed her roughly, his fingers slipping between her legs and steadily rubbing her clit. She moaned and bucked beneath him and finally feeling Peter's hold on her slack slightly, she began to grind down on his hand as much as she could, desperate for the friction, his ministrations driving her crazy for her release. It didn't take long as he continued the welcome assault on her throbbing bud. And as his lips devoured hers, she felt that delicious pull stemming from her lower abdomen. She tore her lips from his, one leg wrapping tightly around Peter's to steady herself as she threw her head back and whimpered in pleasure, trying to inhale breath back into herself as she came, her back arching and her fingers digging into his upper arms.

He smiled as his lips continued to press along her collarbone, feeling her body tremble as she came down from her orgasm. He was done with the foreplay...

Grabbing her hands, he pulled her up, turning her away from him on unsteady legs and bending her over the table. He pushed her down gently until she was hovering on her elbows upon the desk beneath her. He gently kicked her legs apart, using one hand to grab a fistful of her hair, while the other positioned himself between her legs. He gave a swift tug on her hair, pulling her head back as he thrust purposefully into her, causing her to cry out in pleasure. He quickly built to a pounding rhythm; his eyes scanning the bruises that were forming along her back; a lingering reminder of their quickie earlier in the flat staircase, and he felt himself instinctively lean his body protectively over hers. He released her hair, one hand snaking under her arm and up around her neck, his fingers settling under her jaw, holding her face close to his as his other hand steadied tightly on her hip. He was _possessing_ her, and she him as she pushed back against him, matching him thrust for thrust. They were unleashing their frustration upon one another through their lust.

This was angry sex…

...and it was oh so good!


	18. Chapter 18

"Carla?"

"Hmm?"

"Not sure if you're aware, but I thought I'd bring it to your attention nonetheless..."

"What?"

"Your mobile's been vibrating non-stop..."

"I'm aware..."

Maria swiveled in her chair to face Carla, who was sat at her desk, hunched over a pile of paperwork and biting the end of the pen she had gripped between her fingers. "So," she smirked at her, "still not talking to either of them, then?"

"Nope."

"And you plan on keeping this up for a while?"

"Yep."

"And would the company be willing to pay for a pair of noise cancelling headphones then?"

Carla let out a chuckle, "Not a chance..."

"What about allergy medication, then?"

At this Carla looked up, scrunching her face in confusion, "allergy medication?" she repeated

"Yeah, for the hayfever all them flowers are triggering..." Maria smirked, gesturing to the dozens of bouquets that were scattered about the office.

"Pfft," Carla scoffed looking back down to her paperwork, "Since when do you get hayfever in March?!"

"Well I don't normally, but I reckon I will do if anymore of them come sprouting up..." Maria laughed before turning back to the computer.

"Don't quit your day job, love."

"I would never. Where would that leave you, for a start?"

"With a quieter P.A..."

"Awww you'd miss me, really," Maria turned her head towards the factory boss and fluttered her eyelashes coyly over her shoulder

"Maybe," Carla raised her gaze and smirked at Maria, "I'd never admit it out loud though..."

"You wouldn't have to, your eyes would give it away..." She laughed as the sample knickers Carla tossed in her direction landed squarely in her face, "alright, alright, I best make you a cup of coffee. I can see it's getting to that time of day when your caffeine levels start to drop..." she said as she rose from her chair

"You know me so well,"

"Yet another reason you'd miss me," Maria stated as she opened the door before winking at Carla

"Yeah, yeah,"

Maria chuckled as turned to exit the office before jumping back in shock, "Oh sorry Sean!" she said, "didn't see you there..."

"What with the botanical gardens growing in 'ere I'm not surprised..." Sean quipped. At Maria's laugh, he stepped fully into the office and gestured to Carla, who remained silent at his remark, with his head, "she still not talking to them, then?

"Nope."

"And it's been..."

"Three days..."

"Oh good. Just one more day of the week to go before we can all breath in some wonderful non-floral aromas..."

"How can we help you, Sean?" Carla interrupted as she began inputting numbers on her calculator

"Well, look Mrs. C, you know I love you, and I'm not being funny, but..." Sean paused as Carla raised her head from her paperwork, twisting her lips and raising her eyebrow at him

"...but?"

"But could you please just talk to the two of them, because honestly I don't know how many more of these" He pulled out yet another obscenely large bouquet of freesias from behind his back and thrust them towards Carla, "we can house in here, before we turn into a flippin' flower shop!"

She sighed as she accepted them off him and he smiled awkwardly at Maria, "judging by the size of that bouquet, and the fact that its freesias, again, I'm guessing these ones are from-"

"Frank," Carla and Maria answered at the same time

"Thought so," Sean acquiesced, rolling his eyes, "doesn't believe in mixing things up a bit does he, our Frank?" he chuckled

Carla smiled thinly at him, "Why don't you and the girls head off for lunch, Seany?"

"Boss, yes boss!" he saluted her and exited the office as Maria smirked

"You can go too and all, Maria." Carla said as she stood up from her desk, looking for a place to place the bouquet

"Are you sure?"

"Yep," came the response as Carla attempted to rearrange the other bouquets steadily on the cabinet behind her, swiftly catching one as it tumbled towards the ground, "as long as you promise to bring me a coffee and a sticky bun from Roy's on your way back." She grunted out as she heaved the newest batch of freesias on top of the others, before wiping her hands along her jeans and turning to face her P.A.

"I think I can manage that," Maria chuckled, grabbing her purse and digging through it, before pulling out the item she was looking for, "there, best leave that for you an' all," she said placing the item on the paperwork in front of Carla, "figured you might need little Liam's toy whistle..."

"And why is that, then?" Carla asked, perplexed as she picked up the bright, neon green whistle and twisted it around

"So that if all these flowers come down like an avalanche, you'll be able to signal to us so we know where to begin digging you out." With a final giggle she left the office, leaving a smirking Carla behind.

She muddled around with some more paperwork while the last of the factory workers exited the building. As she went to place the papers into one of the files on the desk, she couldn't help but smile at the whistle that remained on top of the pile. She raised the whistle to her lips and blew into it softly, surprised at how little pressure it took to make such a trilling sound.

_'Hmm, might come in handy the next time I catch one them lot dozing off..._' she thought with a smile before placing the whistle in the top desk drawer

"Now there's a beautiful sight," Frank's voice called out as he stepped into her office, "I've missed that smile this week."

"Hello, Frank," Carla exhaled, leaning her elbows on the desk in front of her, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Frank placed his hands in his pockets and shrugged slightly, "I see you've received my flowers," he asked pointedly, his eyes glancing about the office, "and then some..." he muttered, trying to contain the jealousy that coursed through him at the thought of who else was also sending her flowers.

"Hmm mmm," she responded simply with a piqued eyebrow

"Is your phone working?" he asked, brows furrowing

"As far as I'm aware,"

"So you have been getting my calls, then?" he gestured to her mobile on the desk

"I have."

"And you've been deliberately ignoring them?"

"My, my no flies on you is there Frank?" She replied as she leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other

Frank nodded; lowering his gaze to his shoes before coming back up to rest on her, "may I?" he pointed to the chair across from her and moved to sit down after she nodded. "Look," he began softly, "I know you're upset about what I did-"

"Upset, Frank?" she interrupted him, "No, I'm not upset. As I told you on the phone on Tuesday morning, I'm downright disgusted," she pushed herself up from her chair and put some more distance between them, folding her arms across her chest before spinning back to face him, "lying about me asking you out when I were 'drunk' in order to manipulate me into having dinner with you?"

"It wasn't like that-"

"I mean, how dare you? Who'd you think you are?" she shook her head at him, restraining herself from shouting at a client.

"Look, Carla if I could dig a hole and crawl into it, I would-"

"I've got a shovel you can borrow-" she sniped back

"Carla, look I'm sorry, alright? That's why I came here, to apologize and to explain, if you'll just give me the chance to," he pleaded, watching as she exhaled deeply before sitting back down.

"Go on then," she said.

"Look, this is embarrassing for me to admit, but I'm not always very smooth when it comes to asking women out," she scoffed at him, before folding her arms across her once more, "I mean, I'm very confident when needed, but with _certain_ women I just clam up. Say all the wrong things..."

"And I'm one of them women, am I?"

"Yes," he looked into her eyes, marvelling for a moment in the way they darkened when she was angry, "You're stunning, and funny, and smart. You light up a room when you walk into it, and every man in the vicinity fights to be the only one in your orbit. I didn't a stand a chance that night at the mixer talking to you, all the others were flocking around you, I could barely get a word in edgewise."

"You could have tried," Carla responded,

"Carla I had no idea you were slipped something that night," he breathed out, lowering his voice to what he hoped was one that sounded genuine, "When you told me that on Tuesday, my heart just collapsed. I thought you just got a bit intoxicated, and I were jealous because it looked like Rory was all over you, and I left the mixer kicking myself for not having more guts to fight for your attention. Then I saw you the next night, Carla, and you looked so fabulous; and I admit it I was licking my wounds...and I wanted to embarrass you a bit as I was embarrassed the night prior, and before I could stop myself I just implied that you asked me out-"

"You see, but the difference Frank, is that you wanted to embarrass me the way you were, but I didn't do anything intentionally to embarrass you. I didn't go out of my way to try to make you feel low, Frank. But you did. You did_ that_ to me."

Frank nodded, "I'm not proud of what I did," he moved the chair closer to hers, reaching out his hand and placing it gently on her knee, "and I know it's not really an excuse, but male egos can be fragile things,"

"Hmm don't I know it," she scoffed

"Carla had I known what actually happened that night, I well, for one thing I never would have left! I would've stayed with you and taken you to the hospital myself," his eyes brimmed with tears, "I dread to think what could have happened to you that night..."

"Frank..." she whispered, her anger melting away, and feeling slightly guilty for the pain he was obviously experiencing

"No," he rose to his feet, turning his back to her as he sniffled, "no, I'm so sorry! And I'll understand if you'll never be able to forgive me..."

"Oh Frank, come on there's no need for things to get that dramatic," she said calmly

"No, Carla, what I did was unforgivable! I never should have taken advantage of you like that -"

"Look Frank, would you just, sit back down, please?" When he turned to face her, moving back towards the chair, she shook her head and tapped her fingers on the desk, "Look, what you did was sneaky and quite cruel actually; but I've done some pretty cruel things meself when I were jealous or embarrassed. It's not like what you did is unforgivable. I mean it's not like you were the one that slipped me that flamin' pill that started this whole mess in the first place..."

"No," he whispered as steadily as he could, "but it doesn't excuse what I did,"

"No, it doesn't," She eyed him for a moment, "but you owned up to it, and you've apologized, so I can't see why we can't move forwards as adults."

"Really?"

"Just don't take the mick again. I don't like it..." she said.

"I won't. I promise." he smiled at her, relieved when he saw her smile back, "now about tomorrow,"

"Frank..." she sighed

"No, please hear me out. I know you backed out of it on Tuesday, but it's still a wonderful opportunity to meet new clients, and you shouldn't skip it because of me. I have your ticket here," he took out a small envelope and placed it on the desk, "I understand that you would probably feel more comfortable coming on your own, instead of me picking you up, and that's fine if that's what you want. But I would still really like to make all this up to you tomorrow night at the charity event by introducing you to some business associates of mine, perhaps buying you a glass of champagne or two..."

He watched as she breathed deeply, her eyes dropping to the envelope on the desk.

"Look, don't answer now, just think about it. Cocktails are at 7:00 pm and dinner is at 8:00 pm. No hard feelings if you decide not to come, I'd understand entirely. But I would hate to be the reason that you miss out on acquiring new business that could keep this place afloat and your workers comfortable in their jobs for years to come..." He watched as she mulled it over, before reaching out and grasping her hand in his, raising it to his lips and kissing her fingers gently, "Just think it over," he whispered, rising from his seat and opening the office door, "Bye, Carla."

"Bye Frank." She responded back with a small smile, her eyes following as he left the building.

* * *

It had just gone 5:30 PM and Carla was sat alone in her office. All the workers had clocked off for the night and Maria had headed off to pick up Liam from nursery. She scrolled through her web browser, looking at different options for cocktail dresses to wear to this event the following evening.

She didn't like being guilted into going, but she knew Frank was right about the possibility of drumming up new business. She would have to take half the day off tomorrow to go into town and get a dress for the evening, as she was too exhausted to think about going now.

"You movin' and shakin' then?" Peter called from the office door and she jolted in shock, her hand coming up too her chest, before narrowing her eyes at his smirking face

"You know I really need to get a proper bell on that door..." she mumbled before turning off the computer monitor.

"So," Peter began as he stepped into the office, "I see you-"

"Got your flowers?" she interrupted him, standing up and shrugging on her coat, "yes, yes I did. It's beginning to look like a flamin' funeral parlour in 'ere."

"And uhhh your- "

"Let me save you some time, Pe'er," she stated, holding her hand up towards him, "yes my mobile's workin' fine, thank you. And yes, I have been ignoring you. And yes," she lowered her voice low as she came to stand directly in front of him, "you have deserved it."

She was about to step around him and head out of the office, but he reached across, blocking her exit, and smirking at her, "Move out of me way..."

"No," he grinned at her, his eyes scanning over her hungrily

She scoffed at him, "Oh, so what is the plan, Peter? You gonna hold me hostage in here? Tie me to the chair?" She watched as his smile dropped, and she leaned in close to him so her lips hovered above his ear, "well, been there done that love...got the scars to prove it an' all."

"Carla," he said in a low voice, wrapping his one arm around her waist and pulling her in closer to him as his other hand came up to cup her face, "don't..."

"Don't what, Peter?" she responded, feeling her voice shake apprehensively.

"Don't compare me to him..." he whispered

She exhaled deeply, feeling the tears prick her eyes, "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I didn't mean it like that..."

"I know," he smiled at her, "You off home?" he asked as she pulled out of his embrace, "I can order us up some takeaway and we can maybe, clear the air..."

She breathed deeply, as much as she wanted to clear the air, she knew it would only lead to them falling into bed together; and as much as she wanted to ravish him right here, right now on her desk, she was still furious and humiliated over the events that occurred in the Rovers on Monday.

"Uhh, no actually I'm off to go shopping actually," she lied, hoping it would deter him, "I need a dress for tomorrow night..."

"You're still going to that charity event with _him_, then?" He couldn't stop the anger that bubbled beneath his skin, "After everything he did?"

"Peter," Carla closed her eyes briefly, breathing deeply before focusing on him again, "Frank and I have cleared the air today. At the end of the day, he didn't do anything physically to harm me, and I've done far worse things than lie that someone asked me out when they were vulnerable, alright? Now, I'm a grown woman who has a business to keep afloat, and people who rely on me for their livelihoods. So if that means, I need to get myself spruced up for an evening at a charity event with Frank Foster, then I will do that, and I do not need your permission, alright?"

"Fine," he responded, throwing his hands out to his sides and letting his palms slap against his thighs, "I'll respect your decision, but I still don't like the bloke,"

"Oh, stop the presses," she sighed with an eye roll

He smirked at her, before grabbing her purse out of her hand and opening the door, "well come on then,"

"What are you doing?" she asked reaching for her bag only to have him move it out of her grasp

"I'm driving you to the shops, and I'm going to buy you your dress."

Carla scoffed, "Oh come off it Peter! I were planning on scouring the designer stores,"

He looked down at his outfit, "So, what? You think I need to change first?"

She shook her head, "No I didn't mean that," she licked her lips subconsciously at his leather jacket, "I just meant that the dress might be expensive..." she lowered her voice feeling embarrassed that she was coming off as pretentious.

"Well, how about I be the judge of that?" He smiled at her, but could still see the apprehension on her face, "tell you what, let me put your mind at rest: You can buy the dress as long as you model them for me, and I'll buy you dinner afterwards, deal?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and raised an eyebrow playfully, "So you actually want to go dress shopping, with me?"

"As long as you promise to do a little twirl..." he smirked as he stepped closer to her, "and as long as, you promise to try on some real skimpy ones..." he softly captured her lips with his own, stepping back as she licked her lips and smiled

"Fine, go on then," she gestured towards the door, that he re-held open for her, "but don't say I didn't warn you..." she winked as she walked out of the office, and he gave a chuckle as he followed her out.

This was going to be fun...


	19. Chapter 19

"Si!" Peter called out from the kitchen, "Simon!"

"I'm just packing my pyjamas!" his son shouted back from his bedroom

"Right, well get a wiggle on, son! Your grandad is expecting you." Peter glanced at his watch,

**_6:35PM_**

_Hopefully she hasn't left yet..._

"Why are we in such a rush? Are you going to see Carla?" Simon asked as he walked into the main area, his overnight bag thrown over his shoulder

"Yeah, Si but only for a few minutes, 'cause she's going out to a work event tonight." Peter responded, holding Simon's jacket for him to slip on

"Are you going to invite her for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Did _you_ want me to invite her to dinner tomorrow night?" Peter replied

"Don't you _want_ to invite her to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Why are you answering my question with a question?" Peter shook his head at his son

"You did first!" Simon accused him, "I mean she didn't come out for pizza on Monday, I thought maybe she'd want to come see us tomorrow instead."

Peter smiled and nudged his son's chin, "you've taken a real shine to Carla, haven't you?"

Simon shrugged, "yeah, she's cool."

"Cooler than your old man?"

"Dad, everyone is cooler than you..."

"Oi!" Peter pulled his son in and rubbed his knuckles playfully against his scalp, "I'll show you cool..."

Simon giggled and squeezed out of his dad's headlock, "Okay, come on," he picked up his bag, "let's go drop me off at grandad's so you can go and see Caaaaarla!" he teased

"Zip it, you," Peter playfully pushed his son out the door

"Dad and Carla sitting in a tree..."

"I don't think we'd be sitting in any tree, son."

"Why not?"

"Do you really see Carla climbing a tree in them heels she wears?"

"Yeah you'll probably just have to kiss her on solid ground, then,"

"Oh would you just, go!" Peter laughed as he followed his son down the stairs and out of the flat.

* * *

Peter walked to the Draper Mills Flats, his hand fiddling with the small present he had tucked away in his coat. As a gust of wind brushed against him he turned his collar up and pulled his coat tighter around him as he thought back to Monday, and the reason Carla hadn't joined him and Simon for dinner.

After getting out their frustrations with each other with some incredible sex in his office at the Bookies, he decided to make them both a brew while she picked up her clothing that was strewn around the office and put them back on. Neither wanting to head up to the flat just yet, and still having some time before Peter needed to pick up Simon, Carla pulled herself up onto the Bookies countertop, and sat with her legs dangling, while Peter sat in his chair. As they sipped on their teas, they began to talk about the whole Frank situation. She had brought up the charity event that she agreed to accompany him to, prior to her finding out that he had lied about her asking him out, and before she could tell the bookie that she was thinking of backing out of it, Peter had expressed that he didn't think she should be going to it under the circumstances.

Okay, in actuality he flat out told her that she wasn't going. No 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts' about it.

This obviously didn't sit well with her, and after trading a few sharp barbs with each other, in which he found himself stood before her as she continued to sit on the countertop, she pointedly leaned in close to his face and told him that she while she may occasionally bend to him in the bedroom, she would - in no uncertain terms - be told what she could and couldn't do outside of it.

...Looking back now, he were more than sure it were the 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts' part that really lit that fuse...

Before he could argue with her further, she had slammed down her empty mug, drawn her legs up towards her and swung them around the counter, twisted herself to the other side, slid off the countertop and stormed out of the Bookies; her bag slung over her shoulder and her coat draped across her arm, with a sashay in her steps that made her hair swing with her movements. He stood there just staring at the door, both angry and aroused, his mouth agape and still holding his mug in his hand. When he finally moved, he too slammed his mug down on the counter and let out a growl of frustration.

_'That woman can be so pig-headed,'_ he had thought agitatedly,_ 'doesn't she realize I'm just trying to protect her?'_

He debated chasing after her, but he knew they were both as stubborn as the other: He didn't want her going to that damned event and she would insist on going to make a point. They would just end up fighting and perhaps this time, he feared, they wouldn't make up... So he chose to stay put, hoping she would come to her senses once she cooled down.

Only as he sat with Simon that night in town eating pizza, having to make up some excuse to his son that Carla had other plans that night, he started to realize that it was indeed he who had overstepped. As he put Simon to bed, he sent her a text, not quite apologizing for his outburst but indicating that he did want to talk.

But he didn't hear from her; and when she wouldn't answer his calls, nor stop when he called to her on the street, that's when he decided, pride be damned, to start sending flowers to apologize...

By the look of her office earlier this evening, it looked like Frank had the same idea.

He chuckled to himself as he remembered how many bouquets lined the small office space. It did look comically like the prep room of a little flower shop - with all arrangements still tucked neatly into their wrappings. He did notice that while Frank's arrangements were definitely grander and more exquisite, that the only flowers that were actually out of their wrapping and sitting in a vase on her desk, were the ones that he had bought for her on Monday; and that definitely warmed his heart.

He was happy she allowed him to take her to the shops, convincing her to stop at his flat for him to change into his coat.

She actually seemed adorably disappointed that he would be leaving his leather jacket behind, but understood it was because of the chill in the air.

She had waited in the family car he borrowed from his dad, while he ran up to change, and then eyed him suspiciously when he got back in the car wearing his black coat as well as a fresh, button down shirt.

"Peter, I thought you were kidding about changing your clothes?"

"Well I need to ensure that I look good enough to warrant holding your bags while you drag me around the shops, don't I?" he teased as he started up the car, noting how a small smile tugged at her lips even as she rolled her eyes at him.

They only went to one shop. He couldn't deny it wasn't what he was expecting when it came to Carla and shopping. She was always so stylish that he assumed shopping with her would be a long drawn-out evening as she meticulously chose the clothes that she would be purchasing. After all, when Leanne dragged him to the mall for a dress for the Joinery's opening night - or anytime she needed a special outfit, really - it were always to multiple shops and he was overwhelming bombarded with colours and fabric names he couldn't discern from one another, and then having them making all sorts of zigzags through the mall that left him incredibly disoriented and desperately craving a ciggy, only to have her haul him all the way back to where they originally started, and wind up buying the first outfit she initially tried on in the very first store. It was always a thoroughly exhausting experience.

But Carla was a different entity all together. They went into the first shop, and as she pulled varying styles of dresses off the rack, handing them to the shop assistant who eagerly took them to a fitting room for her, he couldn't help but marvel at her focus. She knew what she was looking for, and she wasn't going to waste anytime window shopping.

He couldn't help but take a few of the skimpier, more revealing dresses off the rack and hand them to her. She quickly looked at the label and scoffed at him, before replacing it and pulling off the same dress a few sizes up than the one he had handed to her.

"Very kind of you to think I'm a size 2 darling, but I've been a size 8 for oohh years now, and quite content with that," she had said before peering closer at the label, "Look at this 'ere: a size 2 UK is a double zero US," she tutted, "I mean, how is that even flamin' possible? Being a double zero? I mean, wouldn't that just mean you wouldn't exist? Honestly, the sizing on women's clothing nowadays is getting ridiculous..." she had ranted on as she continued to browse.

Peter chuckled as she had grabbed a few more pieces and then he sat in one of the armchairs as she tried the dresses on. He had wolf-whistled at a few of them as she came out and stood in front of the multiple mirrors that were affixed in a semi-circle. She smirked at him, unable to contain the blush that flushed across her cheeks, but it was when she came out wearing one of the skimpier dresses that he had selected that he realized how bad of an idea this actually was...

...and not just because the fantasy of having a quickie with her in the dressing room was growing stronger by the minute...

It was because for the last few dresses she had tried on, he had noticed this suited ponce lingering around the dressing room area. He had noticed the guy when they first walked in, as he was in the section that contained all sorts of lacy underthings, obviously shopping for a woman in his life, as they had passed by it to get to one of the dress racks; and as Peter and Carla continued around the store the guy made it painfully obvious that he was checking her out; close and obvious enough that Peter had caught the sight of a wedding band on his finger, and simply shook his head.

_'Shopping for his wife, and basically eye-fucking a woman who is clearly with another man,'_ Peter had thought as he stood behind her, shielding her from this guy's view as much as possible as they continued to browse the racks.

He had thought this guy had long since gone by the time she went to start trying on dresses, but yet there he was, standing near the dressing room waiting area, pretending to be looking at some of the dresses that hung nearby and asking the shop assistant questions about it like he was actually interested in it and not in the woman who was changing behind the curtain...

...And as Peter neared ever closer to the Draper Mills Flats on this chilly Friday evening, he could feel his blood boiling at the memory of the evening prior...

When Carla had emerged wearing a tightly fitted bandage-type dress, he actually heard this guy gasp from behind him and he reluctantly teared his gaze off of Carla to see where this gasp came from. After not seeing anything immediately, he had turned back to Carla, giving her another appreciative wolf-whistle as she went back into the changing room appreciating her backside in the tight dress until he heard another gasp from behind him, alerting him to the fact this guy felt the same way. Feeling more agitated now, Peter narrowed his eyes, and ducked down slightly in his chair, feeling rather silly for a few minutes only to finally catch sight of this guy who was obviously kneeling down and comically peering through a rack of long gowns.

He hadn't yet comprehended that Peter had caught him, and as he continued to peer through the long material he suddenly found himself staring at a pair of jeans that most definitely did not belong to a woman. He slowly looked up, one of the gowns draping ridiculously along his head, to see Peter staring down at him, his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised, and his eyes blazing.

If the whole situation didn't make Peter angry as anything, he would have laughed at this guy's pathetic attempt to try to camouflage himself into the silks and satins around him, simply to check out a woman who was most definitely out of his league.

Not wanting to lose face, the man rose to his feet, cleared his throat and walked towards the counter with his purchases in hand. And for a moment, Peter thought that was the end of it, until he looked around to see two more men continuously glancing back towards the dressing room area.

It was in that moment that it suddenly dawned on him that Carla was going to be wearing one of these dresses to this event the very next evening...with that Foster bloke and probably dozens of other men like that suited slimeball who would probably spend the whole evening undressing her with their eyes.

No. That thought was not comforting at all.

And so when Carla came out with her next dress on, despite the fact that she looked simply stunning in the off the shoulder, tight-fitted dress, he told her to scrap everything else, because he had found the perfect dress, to which he had held up a long, dark grey gown.

"Are you serious?" she asked, her eyebrow rising

"Yeah, course," he responded with a shrug of his shoulders

"Peter, I'm not trying that on, it's hideous."

"It's designer..." he tried

"Peter," Carla grabbed the dress off him and held it up against her, "it's got a high neck with whatever kind of ruffles these are 'ere," she said as she flicked the collar of the dress, "the sleeves are made of the same heavy material as the rest of the dress, and don't even get me started on the fact that they are puffy, it has absolutely no detail to it, except for these satiny buttons at the back that make it look like sommit out of Downton Abbey, and Peter it's so long I would need 7 inch heels to be able to walk in it," she stated before thrusting it back to him, "not that I would be caught dead in that in the first place."

"Well, it looked nice on the rack," he had grumbled and she crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed him curiously,

"Okay, out with it," she prodded him, "why the sudden change in direction for dresses?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

She raised both eyebrows in mock surprise, "really?" she smirked, "because you went from choosing out dresses that barely had enough material to cover me bits n' pieces, to a flamin' Victorian-style-" she sputtered her words, "-I dunno, corpse bride type dress, Pe'er!"

"Okay, I just-" he chuckled a bit at her description before glancing over his shoulder protectively, "Look, as gorgeous as you look in all them dresses, I just don't like the idea that you'll be wearing one of them tomorrow without me there, and have men, especially that pillock Foster, eyeing you like these guys are..."

She carefully peered over his shoulder and saw two men quickly look away, one of them trying to inconspicuously whistle a tune, and she smirked back to Peter, "Ahh, well I'll tell you what," she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body seductively into his and raising one of her fingers to his lips, "there's one dress in there that I really, really like, so why don't I try that one on, and if you approve, that'll be the one I get and then we can get out of here and go get dinner, deal?"

"Deal," he answered back with a smile as she pressed a passionate kiss to his lips, "Or," he began as she pulled her head away from his, "we can go somewhere a bit more private..." he whispered as he slid his hand down and squeezed one of her butt cheeks in his hand.

She giggled and playfully slapped his cheek, "not a chance, mister. I still haven't fully forgiven you for this week yet..." she turned to head into the change room, before facing him and gesturing to the gown, "and please put that back where you found it or you'll be having dinner on your own and all..." with a final dramatic, "Uhh, honestly!" she flounced into the change room and he laughed.

Peter paused outside the entrance to the Draper Mills Flats, and smiled. The dress she had come out wearing next was perfect, and funny enough, was the first one she had taken off the rack when they first entered the store. He knew that she knew that would be the dress she would leave with, but she had taken all the dresses he had selected with her to the changing room anyways, and the thought made his heart swell with pride.

She wouldn't let him pay for the dress, he knew she wouldn't, but as she had gone back to change into her regular clothes, he had made a small purchase at the counter, raising a finger to his lips to the shop assistant to keep it a secret to which she giggled and winked at him, as he placed the small box in his coat, just as Carla came out to pay for her purchase.

He treated her to dinner at a small Italian place, and when he dropped her off at night, she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and thanked him for the evening out.

He had watched her enter the lobby of her flat, and smiled after her. She had no idea of his plan for the following evening...

And that's where he found himself now, ringing her buzzer with the first surprise of the night.

"Hello?" came her voice through the intercom,

"It's me, love. I know you're on your way out but could you let me up for a minute?"

He heard the buzzer go and entered into the lobby and up the stairs to her flat, where she had already left the door ajar for him.

He felt the air being drawn out of his lungs when he saw her in her completed look, as she stood holding a small mirror and applying some lipstick at the kitchen counter.

She had definitely chosen the right dress: a black dress with a soft neckline, silver detailing around the hem that hit just above her knees, and sheer long sleeves with the same silver detailing around the cuffs. She had her hair styled into a low bun that gathered closer to her left ear, with small curls framing her face. His eyes travelled down to the dark, sparkling, silver peep toe stilettos she had on that matched the silver on the dress.

"Well, this is a surprise," she said as she rubbed her lips together

"Carla, you look," he breathed out, "stunning."

She smiled and lowered her gaze to the ground, "you still like it then?"

"No," he responded and she looked up apprehensively, "I love it," at her slightly relieved look he continued, "or I will do once it's complete."

"Complete?" she repeated, her hands quickly smoothing down the dress thinking she forgot to finish zipping it, before he stepped forward and held out a small box to her, "Peter, what did you do?"

"You wouldn't let me buy the dress, so I wanted to get you something to wear with it..." He laughed at her perplexed look, "Come on don't leave me hanging here..." he pressed

She opened the box to reveal a beautiful pair of chandelier earrings, with black onyx stones, and glittering dark grey stones in dark silver setting.

"It's Marcasite," he explained, as she continued to look in awe at the earrings, "I thought it matched perfectly with the dress you chose. It's said to have been very popular especially with Marie Antoinette and Queen Victoria, because of the way it shone by candlelight." At her continued silence he started to doubt his choice, "did I pick wrong?"

"Peter," she breathed out, "they're gorgeous, I'm-I'm at a loss for words,"

"Well put them on then," he poked her playfully and she removed them carefully from their case and affixed them to her ears, walking over to the mirror she had hanging across from the kitchen.

"I love them," she said with a smile, "they're perfect," she turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, "thank you," she whispered as she pulled back.

"My pleasure," he responded as he brushed his fingers gently across her cheek, about to lean in for another kiss when her buzzer pierced through the flat

"Ohhh, that'll be me cab," she said disappointedly, "I wish I hadn't agreed to go to this now," she whispered pressing her forehead against his, "I'd much rather stay here and thank you properly for my beautiful earrings..."

"Maybe you can make it up to me tomorrow evening instead?" He whispered, hoping she wouldn't catch on to the second surprise he had planned for that evening. At her nod, he grabbed one of her hands in his, "come on, I'll walk you out..."

* * *

She unbuckled her seat belt and turned slightly in her seat to face the man driving, "Thank you for the lift home Frank, and for the wonderful evening out," she said with a smile,

"I'm glad you had a good time," he said as he eyed her appreciatively for the seemingly millionth time that night, "I am sorry you got dragged up to dance by that Michael-something or other," he chuckled as he remembered her face on the dance floor as she pleaded silently with him to save her

"Thank you for cutting in," she chuckled, "he were getting a bit too comfortable staring at me 'what-its', and I didn't think that kneeing him in between the legs would have been the type of attention to that area that he were after..."

Frank laughed, "well I am sorry you had to put up with it, but you were the most stunning woman in the room, it's not surprising the attention you were getting..."

Carla breathed out and smiled, her eyes glancing down to her clutch, before looking back to him and leaning over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, "thanks again for the wonderful evening, Frank," she opened the door and swung her legs out to the ground before rising out of the seat, "I'll catch you up on the progress of your order next week, yeah?" she said as she turned back and leaned down

"Absolutely," he smiled at her, "I'll be in touch,"

"Night Frank," she said

"Night, Carla," he replied

She shut the door and began walking to the entrance of her building.

"Good night, then?" came a voice from her right and she jumped in fright, before realizing it was Peter.

"Okay you really need to stop doing that, you'll give me a heart attack!" She playfully hit him with her clutch, "how long have you been here?"

Peter shrugged, "bout an hour or so,"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to surprise you," he stepped closer to her, walking her backwards until her back was pressed against the wall, "are you surprised?" he asked as he playfully rubbed his nose against hers before capturing her lips in his

"Maybe," she answered back as she kissed him again

"And am I forgiven for this week, then?"

"Oh I think you could find a way to grovel some more..."

He smiled and ground his hips into hers, as he laid gentle kisses along her jawline, "so are you going to invite me up, or what?"

"hmmm, come on then." she smiled as she slid her card into the security reader, and pulled him by his coat lapel behind her into the building, unaware that Frank sat watching their encounter; his jealousy reaching dangerous new heights...

* * *

They pushed their way into her apartment, barely closing the door before he had her back pressed against it.

He pushed away from her briefly to shrug off his coat, and help her pull off hers, tossing them off to the side before reaching down, grasping the back of her thighs and lifting her off the ground. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him and he slammed her back into the door. She let out a gasp of pleasure at his aggression and dug her nails into his neck and shoulder as she continued to kiss him feverishly, pulling at his shirt to remove it from him.

He placed her down for a moment, keeping her pinned against the door with his pelvis, as he pulled the shirt up and over his head. He slid down her body, his fingers reaching under her dress and looping around the hem of her knickers before pulling them down her smooth legs with him. He glanced up at her as she stepped out of her underwear; her eyes were wild and wet with desire and he trailed one hand back up her leg and held her hip firmly in place.

She leaned her head back against the door, her eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy, and her body jolted in delight as she felt his lips lay a multitude of gentle kisses up her thigh, hovering dangerously close to her centre. He pushed the hem of her dress up so that it sat just at the curves of her hips, and smiled at the reaction and moans he was emitting from her, as he traced his tongue up the crease between her thigh and pelvis causing her to buck against him in pleasure. Unable to tease her further, he nudged her legs open a little further and ran his tongue over her bud, flicking and circling it and enhancing her pleasure.

"Oh God, Peter…" she moaned breathlessly, the palm of one hand pressed against the door behind her as the other grasped a fistful of her hair. She pushed her hips out towards him, encouraging him for minutes on end as he continued to pleasure her. He continued on, bringing his fingers up and thrusting them into her, while his tongue continued to flick over her clit. He could feel her getting close, her legs quivering unsteadily in her heels, and he sped up his movements, his fingers thrusting in and out of her quicker now, as he furiously licked at her pulsing bud. She bucked against him, her fingers gripping his hair ever tighter before she cried out his name as her climax took over. As she quivered against him, he rose to his feet, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips before pushing down his jeans and boxer-briefs and stepping out of them. She moved to kick off her shoes and unzip her dress, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and halted her,

"leave them on," he ordered her, "all of it!" before roughly grabbing her and hoisting her legs back up around his waist.

His one hand trailed the underside of one of her thighs, encouraging her to lower it from his hip and loosely wrap around his leg. With a swift move of his hips, he pushed slowly up into her, savouring each and every inch. She gasped out loud, bending her head down and resting her forehead against his, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth agape in pleasure and her fingers digging once again into his shoulders and neck.

With a smile he pushed into her further and further until he filled her entirely and let out a groan himself. He began thrusting into her in a slow steady rhythm, pressing kisses upon her neck and suckling at the flesh there. She matched his pace as she grinded down against his thrusts, her hips circling and further applying pressure upon her bud. They maintained the slow burn for until Peter began to feel her again starting to yet again reach her peak; her breaths becoming more erratic and shallow.

"God, I've missed this…" he moaned into her neck as he felt her throbbing around him, her shoes falling to the floor as she wrapped herself tighter around his body.

"Pe-Peter…" she breathed out as she felt a second orgasm coming on

He whispered lovingly into her ear, encouraging her to cum and with a cry she let herself go as he continued to plunge into her steadily. Before she came down from her climax, he repositioned his hold on her and turned, lowering them to the hard floor below without removing himself from her.

His fingers trailed down her body and he increased his speed; lowering himself and wrapping his arms under her shoulders so that they were as close as possible as he thrust into her repeatedly, feeling his own climax approaching.

"Oh fuck…" he groaned, as she trailed her fingernails down his spine sending shock waves through his skin and tipping him over the edge. He pushed into her forcefully one last time as he came, whispering her name and holding himself steady in her as she continued to circle her hips slowly against him.

"So, you really liked the dress, then?" she stated with a chuckle

"I _really_ liked the dress…" he replied, as she leaned up and kissed him again before he pulled out of her and collapsed next to her on the floor, reaching over and pulling her close to him,

"I didn't get to thank you properly for the earrings," she smirked seductively, as she traced her fingers down his bare chest and he placed a kiss upon her forehead,

"Oh I haven't forgotten," he said, "but we have all night for that and to make up for lost time…" he pushed himself to a standing position, and held out both hands for her to grasp before pulling her up to a standing position, "I do have one request though…" he said with a smile as he led her to the bedroom

"What's that then?"

He stopped at the dining room table and pulled her close, encouraging her to lift her arms above her head, as he unzipped the dress, and pushed it up and over her body, "That you wear the earrings, and nothing else for the rest of the night…"


	20. Chapter 20

His fingers idly twirled the tumbler in his hand; his eyes hungrily scanning the amber liquid his body was throbbing for as it swirled and sloshed along the crystal sides.

Peter would be the first to admit that he never handled pain well in the past, or any sort of emotional angst for that matter. Whether it had been him experiencing it or those around him, he often felt the urge to remove himself from the whole uncomfortable and encompassing feeling by numbing his body and mind— from the inside out.

And right now he was starting to feel that urge again: Everything that happened that day had been nothing short of a damned mess: Simon, Leanne, Frank…

...Carla...

Yeah: whiskey, gin, tequila, vodka…any one of them would have done the trick in the late hours of that particular evening, but it was the remainder of the Irish Whiskey in that tumbler that was currently calling to him.

He exhaled deeply, lifting the glass up and tilting it. The smell enticing and overpowering his senses before turning the glass sideways and emptying the liquid into the sink; watching as it swirled around the drain, before he turned the tap on to rinse out the glass. Turning off the faucet and placing the glass in the sink, he turned to the bottle that remained on the countertop and swiftly lifted it, taking it to place back in Carla's bar cabinet. He crouched down and opened the small door, placing the half full bottle between the other two: one sealed and one clean, empty bottle with a ribbon and tag around it. His curiosity got the better of him and he carefully pulled it out to read the inscription,

_To my big brother Paul and his gorgeous wife Carla,_

_Happy housewarming! When you become big shot high rollers, do us all a favour and try not to forget us little people!_

_P.S. Car, as you know, best way to my brother's heart is through his whiskey. Always leave a bottle or two of this around, for when I pop over. I'll be sure to drink him under the table so he'll stop nagging at ya!_

_Love always,_

_Liam (Leebugs) _

He had smiled at the card before feeling a wave of sympathy and guilt gush through him. After all this time, she still kept two bottles in the cabinet; perhaps a subconscious way of wishfully hoping that Paul or Liam would wander through her front door, alive and well once more.

He sat at the dining room table and cast his eyes to rest on Carla's bedroom door, where she had slipped away to just moments earlier to get changed, and he felt his heart sink deeper into his chest.

What a mess he had made of everything today!

Especially considering how things were going in a completely different direction at lunch...

* * *

Peter groaned, his head raised towards the ceiling as he leaned back against the desk in his office at the Bookies.

"Yeah baby, just like that," he whispered, his fingers tangling in Carla's hair as he pushed deeper into her mouth, letting out a moan as she pulled back and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock before sliding him back in, her lips applying more pressure as she picked up her pace.

"Yes," Peter grunted, his hips slowly thrusting along with her movements, moaning as her hand squeezed along the base of his cock and moved in tandem with her mouth, and gripping either side of her head as she moved faster and faster. He could feel his legs begin to tighten, and he managed to croak out that he was about to cum, letting out a loud groan as she used her free hand to scrape her nails gently along his balls and push him over the edge; thrusting twice more into her mouth as he orgasmed. She quickly swallowed, and pulled back before her gag reflex kicked in; allowing her tongue to slowly lick along his length as he breathed out a simple, "wow, that was amazing!"

She licked her lips and rose to her feet, him gripping her shoulders and pulling her flush against him while he kissed her. When they parted, he pulled his pants back up and smirked at her as she walked to the other side of the room in her lacy bra, skirt, pantyhose, and boots to where he had flung her top after she pulled him into his office for a bit of afternoon delight.

It had been two weeks since the evening of the charity event, and they had found themselves unable to keep their hands off each other for more than a day at a time. Sneaking in quickies at lunch in her office or his, or making the most of his quiet flat while Simon was at school. She had joined him and his son for dinner numerous evenings, and she had spent the night once at his place, and he at hers twice while Ken and Dierdre took Simon on the weekends to go out and about with Amy. He couldn't deny how happy he was, and she certainly seemed to be as well; but he was nervous about going that extra step and officially becoming a couple; he was nervous it was too soon after his marriage fallout for Simon, and if he was honest he wasn't sure if he was entirely ready himself.

But he couldn't deny how she made him feel, and how he knew he made her feel. It was in her eyes: the way she looked at him like he was her hero, her rock. And when he held her in his arms, feeling her body relax against him during a fitful sleep, he actually felt like he was.

And for Peter Barlow, that meant the world to him.

"I feel a bit bad now," he said as she pulled her top back on over her head

"Bad?" she repeated as she adjusted her top before pulling on her blouse, "I'm not quite sure how to take that, Barlow..."

"No, no I don't mean it like that," he chuckled as he plugged the kettle in, "trust me, _that_ was incredible!"

She smiled coyly at him, taking out her compact mirror and lipstick and reapplying a thin layer over her now slightly swollen lips, "so come on, enlighten us," she said, pressing her lips together and placing both items back into her purse, "what did you mean, then?"

He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him and rubbing his nose along her cheek, "I just feel guilty that I had an absolutely incredible orgasm and I can't return the favour..." he lay soft kisses along her jawline, edging closer to her ear, "you do know _it_ doesn't bother me, you know..."

"I know," she smiled, leaning her arms on top of his shoulders and tilting her head to provide him more access to her neck, which he hungrily obliged, "and it's not like I'm ashamed or owt, I mean I'm a grown woman and it's natural and all that," she responded, gasping as his tongue flicked delicately along her collarbone, "I'm just in a bit of discomfort, that's all..."

He pulled back from her, his hand cupping her face softly, "are you okay?"

She smiled at him and nodded, "Be a lot better if you'd just kiss me..."

He pulled her head towards his, his lips capturing hers between his and running his tongue along her top lip, before slipping it inside her mouth, his one hand cradling her head to his while the other slid down between her buttcheeks and pressed her into his hips. He heard her moan and felt her smile against him before his phone vibrating pulled them back to reality.

Peter huffed angrily before silencing the call

"Who were that?" Carla asked curiously as she followed him out to the betting desk

"Leanne," Peter gritted out, before pouring them each a mug of tea, "telling me she wants to see Simon and how I can't keep him away from her,"

Carla pressed her palms into the counter and tapped her toe on the floor behind her, "well, I mean," she scratched her head absentmindedly, "would it be the worst thing in the world, to let him see her?"

Peter turned to face her, his expression nothing short of derisive, "yes, Carla, it would," he responded as she twisted her lips and lowered her gaze to the mug he placed before her, "I don't want my son around her or that jumped up ponce Tilsely-"

"A-Alright," she acquiesced, her hands coming up in mock surrender, "I were only asking Peter,"

Peter sighed and stepped closer to her, "I know, I'm sorry," he responded as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "I shouldn't take it out on you. She just gets me so riled up," he raised her chin up with his two fingers and pressed a soft kiss to her lips

She smiled crookedly at him, "Look, Peter, he's your son and you know what's best for him, but hear me out okay?" She waited for him to nod before continuing, "Leanne has been like a second mum to him. I know what she did hurt you and hurt him, but, Peter she loves him, unconditionally," she looked down to her hands, "some kids never get that from their actual mums..."

He ran his hand down her hair, his heart breaking as he suspected she was talking about herself, and cupping her cheek in his palm, he planted another soft kiss to her lips, his forehead resting against hers,

"You're right," he said, "but it's just too raw still. It should be my decision on when I decide to let her see him. But I'll think about it though, okay?"

She nodded before playfully slapping his cheek, "okay."

He watched as she hugged the mug between her hands and took a sip of the steaming liquid, "so uhh, when _can_ I return the favour then?" he asked cheekily

"Another day or so," she responded with a wink

"And just how, Mrs Connor, do you expect me to keep me hands off you until then?" he asked, his hand playfully slapping her butt

She tilted her head towards him, her lips hovering dangerously close to his own, "by knowing that the anticipation will make it all the more spectacular," he scrunched his face playfully and shrugged his shoulders, so she placed her mug down and wrapped her arms around his neck , her fingers playing with his hair as she pressed her lips against his, "and by knowing that I'll let you do anything," she whispered huskily as she softly bit his lower lip, "and I do mean, _anything..."_

"Anything?" he slid his hand between her buttcheeks and playfully tapped around her tailbone while he pressed his hips into hers, grinning as she closed her eyes at the movement before playfully slapping his chest

"Okay, anything but _that_, Barlow," she giggled at him, "not yet anyways..."

"So you're not ruling it out in the future then?"

"Well, I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out, won't you?" she said as she captured his lips with hers once more...

* * *

"Mrs. C?"

"Yes, Kirk?" Carla responded, her eyes not leaving the clipboard that she used to check off the inventory of material in the bins next to the machinists

"We're starting to run low of them small packing boxes," Kirk said, "you know, them ones with the lids for the special orders?"

"The garment boxes?" she responded, as she continued to make notes on the paper

"Yeah, those ones,"

"Okay, which sizes are we running low on?"

"Uhh," Kirk looked down at the paper he had written down on and handed it to her, "18 x 14 x 2.4" he said,

"Alright, thanks Kirky leave it with me," she said taking the paper and placing it under the butterfly clip. As she turned to check on the bin filled with lace trimmed elastic, she heard a panicked "Carla!" from behind her before someone crashed into her back and she lurched forward, barely stopping herself from tumbling over in her heels. She looked down to see two small arms wrap around her waist tightly and squeeze. She shifted slightly, twisting in the embrace and lifting the clipboard up above her head,

"Simon?" she questioned as the little lad continued to press his cheek into her side, "hey, hey, what's the matter?" she asked worriedly, handing the clipboard and lace to Maria's outstretched hands, before cradling the head of the sniffling boy

"Si!" a voice trilled from the entranceway

"Please Carla, I don't want to talk to _**her**_," Simon gritted out, his cheek pressing into Carla's ribcage as she continued to stroke his hair and pat his back

"Okay," Carla hushed him, "it's okay, Si-"

"Oh great," Leanne rolled her eyes as she halted in front of the image before her, trying to offset the hurt she was feeling at being replaced in the young boy's life, "look Carla, this has nowt to do with you, alright?"

"Uhh, excuse me, madam," Carla clapped back sharply, "it might 'ave escaped your awareness, but you are in my fact'ry so I can assure you, it very much has to do with me!"

"Look, Si," Leanne said in a soft voice ignoring Carla, "Please can I just talk to you for a little bit?" Simon shook his head, squeezing his arms tighter around Carla's waist, "Come on Si, we can go for one of them milkshakes you like at the cafe, if you want."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you!" Simon stated angrily. And as Leanne's eyes filled with tears, Carla couldn't help but feel sorry for her former friend. She carefully pried Simon's arms from around her and knelt down so she was at his eye level and grasped him by the shoulders

"Look Simon," Carla said calmly, "look, you don't have to go if you don't to, okay?" he nodded at her, his eyes filled with tears and damn near breaking her heart, "but Si, I think Leanne just really, really misses you, and I think she just wants to spend a bit of time with you, that's all."

"Would you come too, then?" he asked

"Ummm," she glanced up at Leanne, who looked defeated at the suggestion, before looking back into the young boy's eyes, "yeah, if you want me to be there, I'll come along." Simon nodded his head enthusiastically and Carla licked her lips, "right," she nodded before standing up and facing Maria, "Umm, it's almost time for them to clock off anyway, are you alright to close up?"

"Of course, go on!" Maria smiled at her

Carla placed her hands on Simon's shoulders, and looked somewhat apprehensively at Leanne, "I'll just grab me coat and purse, then..." she gestured to the office and headed over at Leanne's somewhat reluctant nod.

She shrugged her coat on and placed a few scattered items, including her mobile, into her purse just as her office door opened, "Ohh catch you at a bad time, then?" Frank's voice pierced the office space and she glanced up and offered him a half hearted smile,

"Oh, uhh yeah," she said, pulling her hair out from the back of her coat, and gesturing to Simon, "just gotta a bit of an unexpected emergency, you know," Frank swivelled to look out to where Simon and Leanne stood awkwardly near the door,

"Nothing too serious I hope," he asked with a smirk as he turned back to face her,

She waved her hand dismissively, "nah, nothing a milkshake and a sticky bun can't fix, I'm sure," she chuckled, "is there something you needed, Frank?"

"Yes, but not about business. This is more of a personal question,"

"Okay..." she leaned a hand on her desk, smiling at Maria as she too entered the office

"Hi Maria," Frank smiled

"Hello," Maria responded curtly,

"Umm the question, Frank?" Carla pressed with a soft smile, "Sorry, to rush you I just don't want to keep the lad waiting too long, you know?"

"Yes, of course, umm" Frank swallowed, "Tracy Barlow," he began his eyes raising to meet Carla's, "do you know her?"

"I know of her," Carla responded carefully, "but don't really _know her,_ know her, why?"

"Well, we were supposed to have dinner tomorrow evening, you know like a date, but she, for some reason, wants to meet us both; something about an idea she has for the business,"

"Ahh," Carla responded, her brows furrowing, '_not exactly my ideal evening,'_ she thought before shrugging nonchalantly, "okay, I suppose I can arrange to pop by for a bit."

"Well, actually, I thought why don't you bring Peter along," Frank said, not catching the pointed glare Maria threw his way,

"Peter?" Carla repeated

"Yeah he is her brother, right?"

"Half brother, yeah,"

"Well, I thought maybe, she might feel more comfortable with her brother there instead of just the two of us," he smirked at her slyly, "and also of course so you wouldn't feel like a third wheel, either..."

"Ahh," Carla resisted the urge to laugh at that comment, "well I can't guarantee he'll be interested in an evening of shop talk and uhhh crashing his half-sister's dating life and all that. But I'll uhh I'll run it by him and I'll let you know?"

"Sure, give me a ring on my mobile," He smiled at her opening the door for her as she floated towards it

"Will do," she smiled at him, "See you Frank, Thanks for closing up, Maria"

"Ta, Carla," Maria called out, her eyes narrowing at Frank as he watched Carla gesture towards Simon, waiting for him to grab hold of her hand, before they walked out behind Leanne.

"That little lad's quite fond of her, isn't he?" Frank said to Maria as he eyed Carla lustfully as she exited the factory, "I can understand why of course, she's quite spectacular after all..." When Maria failed to respond, he glanced up, seeing her agitatedly organizing a number of files on her desk, "something the matter?"

"Why would anything be the matter?" She huffed continuing to shuffle the folders on her desk,

"Oh I dunno," Frank answered sarcastically, "maybe because you've been acting considerably cool towards me for the past couple weeks, now?" At her continued silence, he tried a softer approach, "Look, Maria, if I've done something to offend you-"

"Oh don't even with that," she spun around to face him, chuckling humourlessly

"Don't even with what?"

"Look, don't play innocent with me, alright?" she gritted out, her eyes quickly glancing to the machinists outside, ensuring they couldn't hear the conversation between her and Frank, "I know what you did," she hissed

"Oh," Frank sighed, "okay, I know what this is about. Look, Maria: Carla and I have already discussed this and put it past us, weeks ago," he said softly as he took a step towards her, "I've already admitted to being entirely at fault for using an unfortunate situation to try to score a date with her,"

Maria huffed, "really,"

"Yes," he said, his eyes lowering to the ground soberly, "and I feel absolutely disgusted with myself for playing such a dirty trick. And had I known that she had been drugged that night, I can assure you I never would have done what I did,"

"Is that right?" she crossed her arms in front of her chest, as he raised his gaze back to her, looking convincingly appalled

...almost...

"Just what are you inferring exactly, Maria?" he asked pointedly

"It's just a bit funny Frank, that you were in a business mixer with her and no more than ten others, and yet you were the _only one_ who didn't see that she had had fizzy water and lemonade all night, except for that one drink? I mean, what exactly were you doing to think she was kicking back multiple wines when everyone else there knew she was refusing them?" She glanced back to the machinists who were still busily working away and chatting, before stepping closer to Frank, "No, I think you_ knew_ that she was slipped something that night,"

"And how would I know that Maria?" Frank asked, his voice lowering to a menacing register,

Maria swallowed hard and stepped back from him, the glint in his eye causing her stomach to flip nervously but still not wanting to back down now,

"I think we both know how you know that..." she responded

* * *

Carla sat beside Simon in the cafe, her leg nervously jolting up and down as the young boy sipped on his milkshake. Leanne had carried most of the conversation since they had arrived; asking Simon question after question about school, and his mates. Simon had answered using mostly one word answers, looking to Carla at times before responding. But Carla could see he was slowly softening towards Leanne; every time she would go quiet and lower her gaze from the young boy, Simon would glance up, almost ensuring she was okay before quickly looking away before she could catch him.

"Can you watch my milkshake, Carla?" he asked her suddenly, "I need to go to the washroom,"

"Hey, I'd ask Leanne to watch it if I were you. How'd you know I'm not going to polish it off?" she teased him with a poke

Simon giggled slightly and poked her back, "because you don't drink milkshakes, you like coffee!"

"I'll 'ave you know, I 'appen to love a good milkshake, me!" she defended herself, her fingers reaching out and grasping the straw and giving it a stir, "especially chocolate-y ones like this!"

"Mum!" Simon laughed as he looked at Leanne, her face lighting up at the term he bestowed upon her as he pushed the glass towards her, "make sure Carla doesn't drink me milkshake,"

"Well, I'll do me best, Si," Leanne smiled, watching him as he hopped off the chair and headed towards the washroom. She awkwardly glanced up at Carla and offered her a lopsided smile, "Thanks, Carla," she said

"Hey," Carla raised both her hands on either side of her head, "I did nothing except threaten to steal his milkshake," she chuckled

Leanne smiled before turning serious, "no really, though," she whispered, "I appreciate this. Coming here with us so I can spend a bit of time with him. I know he'll never forgive me, but it means alot that he doesn't seem to despise me anymore,"

"Leanne he never despised you, and he certainly never hated you," Carla assured her, "he's just hurt, and confused. No matter what happened between you and Peter, Simon will always see you as a mum; he just needs to come back to you on his own, that's all," she smiled at her, "give him time." She took a sip of her coffee, "I am a little confused though, I thought Peter would be picking him up from school?"

"Yeah," Leanne scratched her head, "Something came up at the Bookies, and he had ringed Ken and asked him to pick him up. I happened to see him on the way and asked him if I could go instead,"

"And he just agreed?"

"Okay, I begged more like," Leanne admitted, "but he eventually agreed, saying he thinks it might do us both some good. Simon wasn't best pleased. Basically ran all the way here, and then straight into the factory."

"Well he seems to be okay, now," Carla said encouragingly, taking another sip of her coffee, "though I don't imagine Peter will be best pleased when he finds out,"

"No, probably not," Leanne shook her head, "but I'll deal with that when it comes to it," Leanne sighed her eyes locking onto the woman across from her, "Look Carla, about what I said to you the other week-"

"Lea," Carla waved her hand at her dismissively, "please don't, it's forgotten," she whispered, her voice cracking as tears pricked the corners of her eyes, "but I am sorry for everything though; I were a rubbish friend to you when you needed me, and whether you believe it or not I bitterly regret everything I did-"

"Yeah well I weren't much better when you needed me, though was I?" Leanne responded honestly, "Look, I can't forget what you did, Carla," she stated, "using our friendship to try to bed my fiancee behind my back," she raised a finger to wipe the stray tear that fell down her own cheek, "but I can't get too high up on me high horse either since I was the one having the affair, can I? But I can forgive you. And maybe we can, I dunno, find a way to move on. I don't want to carry this around any longer than you do."

"I'll take that," Carla nodded and smiled.

"Not interrupting am I?" Nick's voice called from behind her, as he came around the table, leaning down and kissing Leanne softly on the lips, before gesturing between the two of them, "should I take this to mean they'll be no handbags at dusk, then?"

"Ohhh, with that cunning wit of his, how do you manage not to constantly jump his bones, Leanne?" Carla drawled sarcastically, smirking at Nick who winked back at her

"Carla managed to convince Simon to come out for a milkshake with me, but I'm not sure how he'll react if he sees you, Nick," Leanne whispered, her head darting around to ensure Simon hadn't emerged from the toilets yet, "or Peter for that matter."

"Understandable," Nick smiled, "I'm just going to get a coffee and head back to the Bistro to finalize the repair work."

"Oh, when do you expect to be re-opened?" Carla asked him

"Uhh in about two weeks if all goes well," he responded before leaning down and kissing Leanne softly once more, "see you later," he rose up to his full height and mouthed a 'thank you for this,' to Carla who nodded and smiled at him as he turned to head to the counter, just as Simon came rushing back to the table and climbed onto his seat next to Carla. They had fallen into an easy conversation again, before Carla caught sight of Leanne's face dropping, the colour draining from her face, and she herself swallowed nervously.

Turning her head over her shoulder and looking upwards, she locked eyes on an unimpressed and angry-looking Peter Barlow, and an apologetic Ken standing just behind him.

"Just what the hell do you think you're playing at, Carla?" Peter questioned her angrily as she rose to her feet and faced him

"Peter," she placed both hands softly on his chest only to have him smack them away, the movement catching her offguard,

"It's my fault," Leanne piped up, "I convinced Ken to let me pick Si up from school and I wanted to take him out for a milkshake; but he really only came out because Carla agreed to come with us-"

"And you didn't think to tell me-" Peter hissed, his eyes unmoving from Carla as he stepped closer to her, his lips curling into a sneer, "after what I said earlier today? I thought I could trust you-"

"Peter," Carla tried again, "you can, I-I was just doing what I thought was best for Simon-"

"Oh, and what? You hangin' around his dad and having dinner with him a couple times now suddenly makes you an expert on knowing what's best for him, does it?" He shouted at her and she recoiled slightly at the anger permeating off of him

"Peter..." Ken admonished him

"That's below the belt, Pe'er," she whispered, her eyebrows furrowing at his demeanour,

"Look Peter, this isn't Carla's fault, okay -" Leanne rose to her feet, "It's mine and look, you and I can hash it out if you want to, but not in front of Si, alright-"

Peter shifted his gaze to his estranged wife, "You stay out of this, because he is not seeing you again, and that's that!" Peter stated categorically, his eyes coming back to blaze into Carla's

Carla exhaled, as she felt Simon stand next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she placed her hand protectively upon his head, "come on, Peter holding onto this grudge is not going to help anybody, especially your son," she said in a low voice, before licking her lips, "look, Leanne's his mum and he loves her, you see how his face lights up when he looks at her-"

"Ohh and that would just suit you down to the ground wouldn't it, eh?" Peter snarled stepping in ever closer to her face, "just palm him off on Leanne, eh? You'd be shot of him then wouldn't you, huh? Have me all to yourself without some kid getting under your designer shoes? Just the way you like it..."

"Why are you saying these things, Peter?" she shook her head as tears pricked her eyes

"You're the Ice Queen," he hissed at her, and she felt her face drain of colour, "not a maternal bone in your body-"

"Alright, I think that's enough now," Nick interrupted coming to stand behind Leanne, his eyes gazing sympathetically towards Carla, but Peter pointedly ignored him; the anger and rage he felt at being betrayed by Carla was rearing its ugly head. This was the second time that she withheld a secret from him and he felt that same hurt and betrayal coursing through him today as he did back in early February...and he wanted to make her hurt as much as he was. He could see he was accomplishing this; he could see it by the way she pressed her lips together as she willed the tears not to fall, and he knew in his heart he should stop and beg her forgiveness, but he couldn't seem to shake this feeling of being betrayed by her, yet again...

"...Just want to keep palming him off on whatever person you can: me dad, Dierdre, and now her," Peter sniped, "All so that you can have my undivided attention completely and not have to share me with anyone else, especially some kid knowing you'll never be the centre of my attention..."

"Peter, stop this now!" Ken gritted out as Simon sniffled and pressed his face into Carla's side, but Peter couldn't hear him either; the tears that sprouted in the green eyes he was focused on spurring him on in his anger,

"Simon, go stand with Hayley please, love, " Carla gently pried the young boy's hands off her waist,

"Yeah, c-come on Simon," Hayley offered her hand out to him,

"No I want to stay 'ere!" Simon protested, but Carla pulled her gaze from Peter and smiled down at the young boy,

"Please Simon, for me, alright?"

Simon nodded reluctantly and took Hayley's hand as she quickly carted him away behind the counter, and out of earshot

Carla folded her arms across her chest and stood staring at Peter, "Are you quite finished now?" she prodded him, trying to contain her anger at his lashing out at her. When he didn't respond, simply staring at her instead, she muttered a simple, "right," before reaching over and grabbing her coat and purse, not missing the apologetic look Leanne threw her way. Nor did Peter, and this just fueled the unjustifiable anger in him even further, and as Carla brushed past him and headed for the door, he went for the jugular...

"Looks like Liam had chosen wisely then, at least with Maria he stood a chance of having a fam-"

His head snapped to the side as Carla's hand made swift contact with his cheek.

It was as though the sharp slap was what was needed to lift the cloud of misguided rage from his mind, and as he gazed into her tear-filled eyes, his hand cupping the stinging flesh on his face, he felt an unbelievable amount of guilt course through him, "Carla-"

She took a step closer to him, her finger coming warningly close to his face,"You stay the hell away from me," she whispered ferociously before swinging open the cafe door and marching out

"Carla!" Simon shouted from behind the counter and pushed his way out the kitchen exit

"Simon come back!" Hayley shouted, "Ken!" she gestured towards the back door

"Oh no," Ken huffed

Peter pushed past Nick who muttered a low, "smooth, Barlow" as he headed round the counter and out the opened kitchen door, Leanne and Nick on his heels, while Ken went out the front door

Carla marched towards Streetcars, "Lloyd?" she called out shakily to the man sitting on the bonnet of his car, her hand still prickling from the slap she had landed on Peter and trying to contain her emotions from overflowing, "you free?"

"Yeah, need a lift?" he asked as he slid off, his brow furrowing at the look on her face. Before she could answer she heard her name being called,

"Oi! Carla!"

Closing her eyes and throwing her head back in an attempt to contain herself, she exhaled and turned to face the man now approaching her,

"Frank," she offered a lopsided smile, "Umm look it's not a good time right now-"

"Just what the hell do you think you're playing at?" He stated angrily, as he strode towards her

"Excuse me?" she responded, taken aback by the look of anger on his face

"Don't play coy with me," he spat as he marched closer to her,

"Hey, hey, hey, back off," Lloyd placed his arm out in front of Carla, the other raising towards Frank in a calming fashion,

Frank eyed Lloyd for a moment, and took a deep breath, trying to collect himself before speaking eerily calmly to her, "I'm cancelling my order!"

"Wh-what?" She shifted her stance, her face contorting in sheer confusion,

"You heard,"

"Frank, you can't do that!"

"Oh, I can," he stated menacingly, "watch me!"

"But, why?" she asked just as Simon came racing around the corner onto Victoria Street, stopped by his grandfather from approaching the scene as Peter, Leanne and Nick followed suit

Frank's eyes traipsed the length of her body, "I won't work with people who slander me behind my back."

"Hang on," Carla shook her head, "I 'aven't got a clue what you're talking about,"

"Ask Maria..." he whispered a smirk playing across his face

She didn't know why, but it was the look on his face that seemed to push her over the edge, almost like he knew he had her over a barrel and was enjoying it.

"Oh you know what," she shook her head, "As it has just been charmingly thrown in me face, I 'avent got a maternal bone in my body, so I am not about to start playing 'mummy' in whatever back and forth you've got going on with my P.A., alright? You've got a problem with her, deal with it like a grown-up, and if you can't, then cancel your flamin' order, alright?" Her voice had reached an almost screeching pitch, and it was only then that Frank saw the tears that had been lining her absolutely anguished eyes, and he took a step back

"Okay, Carla-" he softened his tone, worry actually taking over at seeing her so emotional, and his eyes quickly caught sight of Peter and his son standing with others nearby, and he started to piece things together, "look, I'm sorry why don't we go somewhere and talk this out, calmly, okay?"

Carla scoffed frustratedly, her hands rising up and pulling at the hair on either side of her head, "Oh, I can't keep up with you men, you're all like a flamin' Jekyll and Hyde," she whispered, trying to calm herself down and failing miserably. She lowered her hands back down to her side, narrowing her eyes at the man standing across the car from her, "If you think I'm going anywhere with you after that little outburst you can think again," she gritted out angrily, "I am through being everyone's punch bag for the day, alright! Now leave me the hell alone!"

"Carla-" Frank tried apologetically again, but she ignored him, whipping open the passenger door of the cab and sliding inside, as Lloyd climbed into the driver's side and started the ignition, his car pulling off down the street, past Peter, Ken, Leanne, Nick and a distraught Simon.

Peter watched the cab drive away before turning towards Frank, "what the hell did you say to her?" he accused as he strode towards him

"Me?" Frank recoiled back defensively, "I can assure you that _that,_" he pointed in the direction that cab had sped off, "has nowt to do with _me_, but I'm more than sure it has everything to do with _you_."

"Oh, know that for a fact do you?" Peter squared up to Frank, getting into his personal space and staring up at the taller man menacingly

"Well she was fine when she left the factory earlier, so yeah, I know that for a fact!"

"Peter!" Ken shouted at his son, drawing his attention back to where Simon stood visibly upset

Peter felt his heart breaking and shook his head before turning back to Frank, "you just stay away from her," he warned him as he jogged back to his son

Frank was about to retort but thought better of it. He wasn't going to risk the plan he had devised for the past week to drive a permanent wedge between Peter and Carla, just to get into a petty scrap with the bookie in the street. Instead he swallowed the biting remark he had, and headed towards the pub.

He had bigger fish to fry right now. Just one blonde one to be precise...

Peter dropped to his knees in front of his son, who now stood with his arms wrapped around Leanne's waist, tears streaming down his face

"Si, I'm sorry mate,"

"Why'd you have to be so mean to her?" Simon cried, "she didn't do anything!"

"I know, son, I'm sorry. I took it out on Carla and I shouldn't have," he glanced up at Leanne who simply looked away, "but I'm going to make it right, right now, okay?"

"Are you going to apologize?" Simon sniffled

And Peter nodded, "Oh yeah, big time," Simon threw his arms around his dad's neck and hugged him as Peter looked up to Ken, "can you have him tonight dad, please? I don't know how long I'll be..."

"Of course, I've got your spare keys so we can grab his overnight bag," Ken smiled and nodded

Peter pulled back from Simon and stood in front of Leanne, "Look, if you're free tomorrow, we can talk about this 'seeing Si' business, if you want,"

"Really?" Leanne's eyes widened hopefully,

"Yeah, I'm not making any promises, though..."

"Okay ummm just uhhh send me a message where you wanna meet and I'll be there," Leanne smiled at Peter through her tears

Peter turned to Ken,""look I better go grab a cab," he bent down to hug his son once more, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay son?"

Simon nodded as Peter pushed himself to his feet and jogged towards the cab office

* * *

Peter banged on the door of number 4 Draper Mills flat, having finally been let in by a neighbour who was leaving the building, as Carla refused to answer her buzzer for well over an hour.

"Carla!" he shouted, "I'm not going anywhere until you let me in!" he banged on the door again before it was whipped open and he stood face to face with the factory boss' tear stained visage.

"Can't you take a hint?" she sniped. turning her back on him, and downing the remainder of the whiskey she had in her glass down before standing at the counter and pouring herself another.

Peter stepped into the flat and closed the door, his head nodding towards the bottle on the counter as he shrugged off his coat, "is that really the best option right now?" he asked kindly

"Don't you even start with me," she gritted out, as she raised the glass to her lips, taking a large gulp and swallowing quickly as the liquid as it burned deliciously down the back of her throat, "don't you lecture me about drinking after all you just threw at me in the cafe,"

"Carla, I'm sorry-"

"Sorry-" she scoffed, taking another sip of the drink in her hand, "yeah right,"

"I am," he stood in front of her, prying the glass out of her hand and placing it on the counter, "I really, really am," he whispered as he placed his hands delicately on her hips and pulled her into him as he leaned his back against the countertop, "I was lashing out and I took it all out on you. I'm sorry," he reached up and wiped the tears that had fallen down her face, with the back of his fingers

"You hurt me, Pe'er," she croaked out,

"I know," he pressed his forehead against hers, "And I'm so sorry-"

"You said them cruel things on purpose,"

'I did, yeah,"

"To hurt me?"

"Yeah,"

"You're a prat-"

"I know,"

"I hated you," she sniffled

He felt his heart snap in two, "I don't blame you. I did warn you all them months ago that your feelings for me may fade, especially when you get to know me properly," He exhaled, his hands coming up and cupping her face between his palms, "have they, hmmm?" he brushed his nose next to hers, "have they faded?"

She looked into his warm eyes, so different from the ones that blazed at her angrily just an hour earlier in the cafe, and shook her head slowly, "no," she whispered

He let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in as close to him as possible.

"Am I forgiven, then?" he whispered into her hair

"No," she answered abruptly, pulling back from him and crossing her arms over her chest, "but at least I don't hate you right now..."

He nodded, "look, why don't you hop in the shower, and I'll rustle us up a takeaway," he eyed her carefully, "that is, if you want me to stay with you?"

She brushed past him, taking the glass of whiskey with her to the bathroom, "let's just see, shall we?" she stated quietly before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind her...

* * *

After ordering up a takeaway, and once Carla emerged from her shower, she had poured herself one final glass of whiskey, her eyes almost begging for him to challenge her so she could have an excuse to throw him out, but he didn't rise to it. She barely sipped on it as they ate their dinner in silence, her eyes downtrodden the entire time as she played with the food on her plate. He cleaned up the plates and assuming she didn't want him to stay, was about to reluctantly grab his coat to leave when he heard her speak softly from her place on the sofa,

"Paul never wanted kids you know," she said and he turned slowly to look at her, "neither did Tony. And that suited me fine. I mean, I would hardly make a decent mother, especially if I base it off the one I have,"

Peter sat down next to her, his hand gently stroking her hair as she spoke

"I never saw myself as a mum. Didn't really think it were fair to bring a kid into my care knowing I would be rubbish. But I cared about Ryan though," she said softly, "I always enjoyed being his Auntie Carla. I liked having him around with me and Paul, and I also liked the appeal of giving him back to 'Chelle at the end of the day,"

Peter chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple

"I really like Simon, Peter."

"I know you do," he pulled her into his arms, "I know you do and he really, really likes you too."

"I know Liam wanted kids..."

"Carla..." he whispered, feeling his heart snap as he remembered the harshness of his words earlier

"That's why I couldn't run off with him, not when I knew Maria were pregnant and could give him what I couldn't..." she sobbed, "He would have chosen her in the end, I know that..."

"Carla, stop," he turned her to face him, "Liam didn't choose Maria, he chose _you_. And _you_ gave _him_ up; _you_ gave up _your_ chance at happiness for him, for Maria and for that little baby," he wiped the tears that fell down her cheeks, "now you may think you'd make a rubbish mum, but I know differently. Being a parent means often sacrificing your happiness for theirs. You've already shown that you have that about you, Carla...when you selflessly gave up your happiness for them..." He pulled her against him and hugged her to him, softly stroking her hair and rubbing gentle circles on her back until she faintly asked him to stay with her.

She had gone to the bedroom to change, and he had sat there, eyeing the remainder of the whiskey she left in her tumbler before finally pouring it down the sink.

And now, as Peter stared at the door to her bedroom, she finally emerged in a pair of satin pajama pants and a vest. Her now dry hair was brushed and fell about her shoulders as she approached him. He got himself comfortable on the chaise lounge of her sofa, lifting his arm for her to snuggle into. And as she curled up next to him, him lifting the duvet over them both as she flipped on the television and scrolled to find a movie, he gently kissed the top of her head, promising himself he would never cause he pain like that again.

He had not just fallen head over heels for Carla Connor.

He was madly in love with her...

* * *

"See you love," Maria called to Fiz as she walked across the cobbles from the Rovers Return towards her flat. Just as she was about to put the key in the door she jumped in fright at the man who appeared from the shadows next to her.

"Frank!" she narrowed her eyes angrily at him, "what the hell do you think you're playing at?"

Frank simply stared at her, and she took a reluctant step back before he spoke, "I'm going to ask you, just once Maria, to drop this ridiculous allegation you've made about me."

"And why should I?" Maria swallowed back, "if it was you that did it, she deserves to know..."

"You can't prove it was me, Maria," he smirked evilly, "no one can..."

"You sick-"

"Ah ah ah," he interrupted her, "if you continue making these unfounded claims against me I will pull out of my contract with Underworld."

"Yeah?" Maria said, stepping close to him, "well good riddance!" She was just about to enter her flat when his voice boomed from behind her,

"And how would your little mates feel about you then, eh? All those workers - your friends, Maria - feel about losing all the work I had pumping into the business."

"We'll find more work."

"Not after I start spreading some claims of my own," he smirked as her face fell, "what? Did you think it doesn't work both ways?"

"This is blackmail..."

"And how would the lovely Carla Connor feel, eh? Watching the business she worked so hard for, go into liquidation, having to close the doors forever...?" He watched as the turmoil passed along her face, "is it worth all the pain you're going to cause? Just to sling some mud and see what sticks?"

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop making the ridiculous accusations you're making, and I want us to get back to the professional relationship we had before all this unpleasantness," he took a menacing step towards her as she backed up into the door behind her, "because I can promise you Maria, I can make your life far more unpleasant than you're trying to make mine."

She swallowed hard, her eyes widening in fear at him as he smiled down at her and pushed himself away, walking backwards down her pathway, "See you tomorrow, Maria." He winked, before turning and walking away, leaving Maria shaking as she leaned against the door of her flat.


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N: My sincere apologies for the delay in updating this. I've had to try something a bit new with this chapter in order to move the story ahead, otherwise we'd be stuck in March 2011 for who knows how long! **_

_**Thank you to those who continue to read this and my other stories. It is so very much appreciated.**_

* * *

_**May 7 2011**_

"That's ours there, Si," Peter pointed out the large, black duffle bag that tumbled down onto the conveyor belt, "quick, give it a grab!" He reached down and helped his son pull the bag off the moving belt and down onto the ground beside them. "Right, you got everything, then?" he asked as he adjusted the backpack onto his son's shoulders, before hauling the duffle bag up onto his own.

"Has she called yet?" Simon asked, his hands holding onto each of his backpack's shoulder straps as he tilted his head back to glance up at his dad.

"Not yet, son," Peter responded softly.

"But she promised she'd come!" the young boy whined sadly, "she promised..."

"I know she did, Si and hey, she might still." He smiled down at his son before wrapping his arm around him, "come on," he said, nudging him towards the sliding doors where two airport personnel stood eyeing passengers as they walked through.

Peter felt a sense of nervousness overtake him as the doors slid open in front of him. He was greeted by a sea of faces on either side of the hallway they stepped into, but none were recognizable to him, and he felt his heart sink.

He had been so sure she would be there...

"Can we get a hot chocolate?" Simon asked innocently as they stepped away from the rows of people.

Peter turned and looked down at his son's hopeful face, "you want a hot chocolate? Now?" At his son's nod, he pressed further, "and is this just because you're thirsty for one? Or is there some other reason?"

Simon looked down, kicking the toe of his Converse sneaker into the tiled floor, "I just thought that maybe she's just running a bit late, is all..." he mumbled.

Peter couldn't help but smile, "you know, you might be right!" he said, even though he was starting to believe that the woman in question would actually show up now, his son's unwavering faith gave him a glimmer of hope himself, "come on, I could do with a coffee meself..."

As they sat at one of the tables some fifteen minutes later, finishing off their hot drinks in companionable silence and glancing about around them, Peter could see his son starting to lose his earlier confidence.

"We'll give her another five minutes Si, and then we should make a move." He said gently, as he took the two empty cups and tossed them in the nearby recycling bin, unable to stop fidgeting himself as his eyes scanned the crowd around him.

"She's not coming, is she?" Simon sulked, looking around the arrivals lounge at Manchester airport

"It doesn't look like it," Peter smiled sadly down at his son, "But I'm sure there's a good explanation," He shrugged his bag further up on his shoulder, and ruffled his son's hair, "Come on, let's go get a cab."

* * *

_**March 25th 2011 - 6 weeks earlier...**_

"_Carla?"_

_"Mmm?"_

_"Rise and shine, love..."_

_A low noise came from the woman curled into his side, causing Peter to smirk slightly as he gazed down at her._

_"did you - did you just growl at me?"_

_"hmmph"_

_Peter pressed a kiss to the top of her head, "Is it wrong that I am turned on by that?"_

_Carla giggled and snuggled further into Peter's embrace_

_"Mmmm what time is it?" she yawned, stretching her legs along the length of Peter's._

_"Just after seven, love. Thought maybe I could treat you to a full English at Roy's this morning before you head off to work. You know, apologize properly."_

_"Oh, it'll take more than some eggs and bacon before you can start slinking your way out the doghouse, mister."_

_"Okay, but am I at least able to peek me head out of the door yet?" he asked rubbing his hand soothingly up and down her back_

_"mmm, I suppose so..."_

_Peter chuckled as he pulled Carla closer to him and kissed the top of her head again, "Honestly though, what can I do to make it up to you?"_

_"'What? 'till the next time, you mean?" she mumbled_

_He tilted his head, taken slightly aback by her words, "Eh?" _

_"Oh come on Pe'er, you've practically bit me head off over something or other for months now!"_

_"Well-" Peter was about to defend himself but found himself reflecting on the some of the things he had said to her, and couldn't help but agree, "yeah, okay. I guess I just haven't been dealing with whole Leanne coming back thing as well as I pretended I had been."_

_"Oh, stop the press, you think so?" she sighed deeply, tracing her finger along one of his tattoos, "I mean, look, Peter: I really like the fact that you speak your mind and that you challenge me and call me out, but I dunno after yesterday it's all starting to feel a bit pointed now. A__nd maybe - maybe you just need to get away for a couple of days or sommit, you know, while everything dies down a bit. Might be what you need to start dealing with it all."_

_"You know, it's funny you should mention that actually..." he sighed_

_"What? Getting out of town for a bit?"_

_Peter exhaled deeply, "sort of. Me dad dropped into the bookies earlier yesterday, you know, before all the stuff that happened in the cafe," He paused a moment and pressed a kiss to Carla's forehead as his continued to run his hand smoothly down her hair, "and he suggested that Si and I, you know, get away from Weatherfield for a while."_

_Carla lifted her cheek from Peter's chest, and placed her chin upon her hand as her eyes gazed over his face, "where did he suggest?"_

_Peter took a deep breath before responding, "Spain."_

_"Spain?" Carla repeated, "that's a random destination, innit? There a reason he suggested it?"_

_"Well apparently Steve told me dad and Tracy that he was planning on taking Amy there for about a month to visit his brother. I guess him and me dad got to talking and Steve said there was plenty of room if Si and I wanted to tag along."_

_Carla nodded, "Well I mean you couldn't ask for a nicer place to get away from school for a month," she smiled lopsidedly at him, "Si will love it."_

_Peter craned his neck to look at her more directly, his brows furrowed in scrutiny, "What? You think we should go?"_

_Carla exhaled, her stomach flipping as she formed her words carefully, "I do baby, yeah," her fingers traced along his collarbone, "I mean, Peter you have to admit, you haven't exactly been in a great place since Leanne and Nick came back," she chuckled half heartedly, "to be honest, you haven't been in a good place since the tram crash..."_

_"Yeah but, I mean I'm working on dealing with everything with Lea," he shifted so his body was propped up against the headboard of Carla's bed, "We're going to meet today to discuss having Si see her..."_

_"And I think that's great, Peter, I do, but," she sighed, "come on, you haven't had a chance to breath since everything happened in December, and neither has Simon," she lowered her eyes from his gaze, tapping her fingers nervously on his chest, "I think you both need a few weeks to clear your heads away from the place where everything happened."_

_"But," he felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach, "what about us?"_

_"What about us?" she pushed herself up so she was sat facing him, "we're friends with benefits, Peter; a casual relationship-"_

_"We're more than that," he interrupted, reaching his hand out to cup her cheek, "you know we are more than that..."_

_She closed her eyes briefly as he stroked her cheek with his thumb, "Peter," her voice cracked as she swallowed the lump forming in her throat forcefully before her emotions got the better of her and she ended up begging him not to go; her tongue flicked across her lips nervously before she spoke again, "to me you will always be more..." she opened her eyes to rest on his once more, "but until you get your head straight, I don't think I could ever believe you'll ever see me as anything more than a rebound..."_

_"Carla -"_

_"Peter," she interrupted him before he could protest, "As much as this hurts to say, I think we need this break. Because right now, after everything that's happened, and after everything that's been said yesterday, I just feel like, if you don't go-" her voice cracked as she swallowed deeply_

_"What?" he encouraged her softly_

_"If you don't go, you'll just end up resenting me," she whispered, "and I'll end up resenting you..."_

* * *

_**May 7th 2011**_

Peter and Simon continued on their trek towards the car park when they heard their names being called by an all too familiar voice from somewhere deep in the maddening crowd ahead of them.

Peter felt his heart rate pick up as his eyes scanned the numerous faces in front of him, looking for the owner of that sensual voice that sent a shiver down his spine in all the right ways.

"Carla!" Simon shouted excitedly as he abruptly broke into a run, leaving Peter watching with a mixture of amusement and awe as the bustling crowd swiftly parted for his young son and slowly revealed the smiling factory boss as she continued to shoulder her way through the mass of people before Simon threw himself into her, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" Carla hugged the young boy back, "my meeting in town ran late and I tried to get out as fast as I could when I saw that your flight had landed. Then I couldn't get a cab because some crotchety old woman stole the one I were waiting 10 minutes for, and me phone died just after I called Streetcars for one. And then I had to fight my way through all these floods of people who are obviously miserable as sin at being back from their holibobs!" She glanced up just as Peter stopped in front of her, a grin plastered across his face as he scanned her appreciatively from head to toe and she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the mere sight of him; slimmer than when he had left six weeks prior, tanned, and his normally smooth face now lined with a handsomely trimmed beard. Her tongue darted out briefly before she sunk her top teeth into her bottom lip, offering him a lopsided grin that he found sexy as anything.

"Hiya stranger," she greeted him as Simon shuffled to stand next to her

"Hi," his eyes remained fixed on hers as he closed the gap between them, raising his hand to cup her face and stroking his thumb across her cheek. But just as he readied himself to lean in and kiss the lips he had been craving and missing for weeks, Carla let out an anguished cry. Her body lurched unsteadily into his as a man, who had been jogging through the crowd, crashed painfully into her back before tumbling to the ground on top of the factory boss as Peter tried unsuccessfully to catch her.

"Oh my God!" the man cried, pushing himself up and grasping Carla's shoulders as he tried to help her up, "Oh my God, I am so sorry, Miss, are you okay?"

"Oi!" Peter shouted, hauling the man away from Carla, "take your hands off of her!" He quickly reached down and gently pulled Carla to her feet, "why don't you watch where you're going next time, hey?"

"I'm so sorry!" the man apologized, "please, are you all right?" he asked Carla directly as she leaned unsteadily onto Peter and rubbed her ankle

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," she responded, "add it to the flamin' list this week..." she muttered agitatedly as she gingerly lowered her leg to the ground without putting weight on it.

"Are you sure?" he persisted as Peter's eyes bore into him

"Yes, I'm sure, honestly," she gestured behind her with her head as she massaged her wrists, "go on..."

"I really am sorry," the man apologized once more before dodging away from them and heading off towards the arrivals lounge

"Here, let's sit you down for a minute," Peter shuffled Carla and his son away from the crowd towards a nearby bench, Placing his bag next to him on the floor, he crouched down in front of Carla and edged his fingers around her leg gingerly, his eyes narrowing in concern as she grunted in discomfort,

"Oh, that smarts!" she hissed, drawing her leg up swiftly towards her chest and applying pressure around her ankle with her hands

"I think we better get you checked out, love,"

"No, no," she shook her head stubbornly

"Carla-"

"Pe'er, I'm fine, it's just a twist is all. Come on, Lloyd's waiting outside," she insisted as she rose to her feet before letting out a pained squeal when she tried to bear her weight on her foot

"Right. That's it! We're going to A and E," Peter rose to his feet and placed his bag over his shoulder

"But-"

"No 'buts', Carla," he ordered her as he wrapped her arm around his neck. He was about to start heading towards the exit, when he noted her sigh rather dejectedly "hey?" he gently squeezed her waist with his fingers and waited until her eyes met his, "what's wrong?"

She exhaled sadly, "back in Manchester and spending it queueing in A and E for hours. I'll bet you wished you'd just stayed in Spain, now?" she mumbled.

But Peter smiled and turning her towards him, captured her lips with his own, cupping her cheek with his free hand as his tongue slipped erotically into her mouth. Her body instinctively pressed into his, and she laid her hand gently upon his chest as she responded to his kiss.

She smiled against his lips and pulled back softly, leaning her forehead against his, "So you did miss me, then?" she whispered

"You have no idea..."

"Uhhh dad?" Simon called out to them, "hospital? Vamonos!"

Carla chuckled, "Ohh, I see I'll have to brush up on me Spanish, now."

"I wouldn't worry, he's only taken to a few phrases: 'let's go', 'I'm hungry', 'I'm bored', 'are we there, yet?' and 'dad, can I have some money?'" Peter laughed, "right! Here, lean into me hop-a-long," he ordered her gently as he repositioned her against him, "now, where's Lloyd parked?"

She gestured towards the far doors and Peter nodded towards his son, "Si, do a bit of crowd control for us, would you?"

"On it!" Spreading his arms out on either side of him, the young boy began gesturing to the adults around him to push back, "make some room please!" Simon began chanting out as he walked ahead of them, towards the exit, "injured woman coming through!"

"Oh charming," Carla scoffed as she hobbled her way out of the airport, but inwardly content to be held in Peter's arms once more.

* * *

_**March 25th 2011**_

_"You're doing it again, Barlow,"_

_"Doing what?"_

_"Staring at me."_

_"Is that so bad?"_

_Carla smirked at him over the rim of her mug, "it is when we're sitting in the middle of a cafe, and both needing to get to work in a bit..."_

_"We could play hooky? I could grovel for your forgiveness in my bedroom..."_

_"As tempting as that is - and it is very tempting - I have to go in and start drumming up new business since Frank is pulling his order."_

_"What? He's cancelled?" at Carla's nod, he pressed further, "was that what you were arguing about with him yesterday at Streetcars?"_

_"Hmm mmm, he came to find me after having some barney with Maria. Threatened to cancel and was being evasive, so I told him if he couldn't solve a falling out with my PA like an adult then he was welcome to pull his flamin' order."_

_"Maybe it's for the best, love. I mean, you don't need to be working with someone who talks to you like that."_

_"Really? You're going to comment on how someone speaks to me after yesterday?"_

_"Okay, maybe I'm being a bit hypocritical,"_

_"Ha, understatement of the year..." Carla sighed and lowered her coffee mug to the table, "look Peter, I know Frank rubs you the wrong way after everything with the mixer; and I admit he's gotten under my skin a few times as well, but that's just business. You know, he might be a bit irritating with his micro-managing but he did introduce me to some new contacts and suppliers; and I mean we were diversifying with the whole menswear division with the 100 000 worth of business he brought in. We've never branched out into something like that before and it could have really got Underworld on the map with that. Not to mention keeping everyone employed there comfortable in their jobs in an industry which, as you know, is becoming harder to sustain when we're competing with cheap labour markets like China and India."_

_"I get it," Peter reluctantly agreed, "so did he pull it for sure, then?"_

_"I dunno," Carla shook her head, "I guess I'll find out when I get in. Only blessing in all this would be that if he did pull his order then I won't have to go to that dinner date he's having with Tracy tonight."_

_"Tracy?" Peter sat upright, "He has a date with our Tracy?"_

_Carla took a sip of her coffee, "Not the first one by the sounds of things. Apparently the two of them have hit it right off."_

_"And why would you need to be there?"_

_Carla shrugged, "She told him she wanted to run something by us about the business. Actually, before everything blew up yesterday, he had asked if you would come along as well,"_

_"Me?"_

_"Yep,"_

_"Why me?"_

_"Because you're her half-brother? Make her feel a bit more at ease?"_

_"He doesn't know our Trace very well does he?"_

_"Well I didn't want to be the one to let him know that she's more than capable of 'defending' herself..." she winked cheekily at him, "he did also say it was a way for me not to feel like a third wheel."_

_"Well, that's a good point. Can't imagine anything worse than you having to sit through a dinner with my charming half-sister and that ponce of a client of yours." Peter leaned forward, "look, if he's decided not to pull his order, and the dinner is still on, I'll come with you."_

_"Really?"_

_"Least I could do."_

_Carla smiled, "okay. I'll let you know," she pushed herself up from the table, "I'm just going to head to the toilets. Be back in a tick." _

_Peter watched her sashay away before being startled by his ringing phone._

_"Hey dad..." he answered, "Yeah, we're fine, but I've still got some grovelling to do," he nodded absentmindedly, "Yeah, I have given some more thought to Spain. In fact, I'll pop 'round after I walk Carla to the factory in a bit. Okay? Okay. See you soon, then. Bye."_

_He kept true to his word, and after saying goodbye to Carla on the Underworld steps with a brief kiss, he headed to Number 1 to finalize some plans with Ken. _

_It wasn't until lunchtime when he managed to pop back into the factory, chuckling to himself as all the machinists suddenly went quiet._

_"Afternoon all," he smiled charmingly at them, "Boss lady in?" he asked _

_"Oh, umm, is she expecting you, Mr. Barlow?" Hayley asked as she held her clipboard tightly in her hands, her eyes darting towards the office and back to Peter._

_"It's okay, 'ayley, I'll take it from here," Carla said as she opened the door to the office, "come in Peter," she gestured him inside, waiting for him to pass through before turning to look at her workers, "uhhh do I pay you all to sit there gawping? Get on with your work please!" She spun on her heel and closed the door to her office. _

_"No Maria, today?" Peter asked her_

_"Oh, she's just taken an early lunch. Needed to take Liam to the dentist," she said as she sat down at her desk as __Peter sat in the chair opposite her._

_"So how did everything work out, you know, with Frank?" _

_"Yeah, good actually," she answered, tucking her hair behind her ear, "apparently he and Maria solved whatever happened between them last night and everything is full steam ahead today."_

_"Did she say what their fight was about?" Peter prodded carefully_

_But Carla simply shook her head, "no, neither of them would budge on it. Just said it were crossed wires or sommit," she shrugged, "anyhow, as long as it means I can keep that lot-" she jabbed her pen pointedly through the glass towards he machinists, "safe in their jobs, and it isn't something that needs to involve lawyers or the coppers, I really don't care to know the details." She shuffled a few papers into a folder, "How about you? How did things go with Leanne?"_

_Peter nodded stiffly, "Well as you can imagine she wasn't very happy to hear that I'm taking Simon away for a month. But he's my son and I think she knows she hasn't got much of a say in how I choose to raise him__. Plus, when I explained that it would most likely lead to a better relationship between him and her when we got back, I think she thawed a bit."_

_"That's good to hear." Carla smiled. Last thing she wanted was to be in the midst of some strenuous and odd custody battle-type situation between the two. _

_"So we still on for dinner then?" He asked. _

_"Yeah, 7:30 at some Italian place in town," Carla stood up and walked around the desk and sat on the edge in front of him, "but Peter, you don't have to come out, honestly."_

_"I want to," he whispered with a smile, reaching out and running his fingers playfully up and down her thigh, "I want to spend as much time with you as possible before I go..."_

_Carla felt her heart sink slightly and she rubbed her lips together apprehensively, "so when do you leave for Spain, then?" _

_"Tomorrow. Afternoon."_

_"Tomorrow?" She stated loudly, as the news hit her rather surprisingly, "That were quick..."_

_"Yeah, me dad managed to find us a really cheap deal on flights. And I figured you were right; I need to go and get my head straight or I'm just going to end up causing more damage to the people around me. Besides, sooner I go, sooner I get back, right?"_

_Carla nodded sadly, reaching her fingers out to grasp his, "So this really is our last day together then,"_

_"Well," Peter stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist, stepping between her legs and pulling her flush against him, "me dad's gonna have Si stay at his tonight, so that we can have all evening and tomorrow morning to ourselves. If I'm out of the doghouse by then, I mean."_

_"Well, how can I say no to that, eh?" She leaned in and kissed his lips softly. _

_"So how's about I pick you up at, let's say, 7ish from your place; but you pack a bag and come stay at mine tonight?" he swayed her gently as he pecked small kisses along her jawline, "that way I can spend as much time with you as possible before I have to get in the cab to the airport tomorrow..."_

_She leaned her head against his; she knew this was the right decision for both of them, but it still cut her deeply that he would be gone for a month or more just as things were starting to pick up between them. Despite this, she smiled through her obvious sadness, "That sounds perfect." _

_"And are you, you know...okay now?" He gestured towards her abdomen with his eyes and she couldn't help but chuckle_

_"All clear, Barlow."_

* * *

**May 7th 2011**

"Oh no, what's happened?" Ken asked worriedly as Carla crossed the threshold of Number 1 on crutches behind Simon and before Peter

"Carla had a bit of an incident when she came to collect us." Peter stated as he placed their bags down on the steps.

"A guy came running out of nowhere and crashed into her at the airport, grandad," Simon explained enthusiastically, "and they both fell over and when we took her to the hospital, the doctors took off her boot and her ankle was MASSIVE! It were well cool!"

"Goodness, are you alright, Carla?"

"It's sprained, but they don't know just how severe it is yet. Which means I've got to keep it immobilized for the next 48 hrs before I go back to get an ultrasound on it and possibly get one of them moon boot thingies."

"Oh, that's terrible! Well, let's hope it's a mild sprain, but I'm sorry to see you in so much discomfort! You, on the other hand son, look great! The break seems to have done wonders for you."

"Yeah, it has done for sure," Peter responded, his smile drifting towards Carla who fidgeted awkwardly next to him, "gave me the time to really get my priorities straight."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Please, come in and sit down, Tracy and Frank are here as well and Dierdre's just brewing up." He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb before turning and following Simon into the kitchen. But before Peter could head in as well, Carla hobbled in his path and blocked him with her crutches.

"Hang on, I need a word with you first," she said, quickly looking over her shoulder to ensure no one was hovering nearby, "what I told you at the hospital -"

"What?" Peter began, "about Frank buying into Underworld and being your new business partner?"

"Yeah, that." Carla nodded

"Well, what do you want me to say, love?" he shrugged agitatedly, knowing exactly what he wanted to say, but choosing to bite his tongue instead

"Well, you didn't seem best pleased," She stated in a low voice, "But I need to make sure you're not going to interfere Peter; not again after what happened at the dinner before you left..."

Peter smirked at her, "well you'll have to be more specific because, as I recall, a few things happened at that dinner..."

"Pe'er!" Carla playfully slapped his chest but couldn't stop the blush that rose to her cheeks, "You know what I'm talking about!"

He stepped closer to her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, "Honestly? No, I'm not pleased. In fact I downright hate it. But it's your business, and you're a brilliant businesswoman. And I trust you."

"You just don't trust him-"

"No. I don't, not when it comes to you," he answered honestly, "especially with Maria having left to go back to the salon, and leaving just the two of you in that office. But I won't do anything that could harm your business partnership, or your business as a whole. As long as you promise me that you'll keep your guard up where he's concerned..."

Carla sighed. She knew that was the most leniency she would get out of Peter Barlow. She knew why he had reservations about Frank, but the business needed his investment. She still had the majority shares in the company, 60/40, and that's how it would remain._ 'Besides,'_ she thought, _'If I could handle Tony Gordon, I can certainly handle Frank Foster...'_

"I promise," she responded before kissing his cheek gently, "shall we head in?"

Peter nodded, and helped her to turn around with her crutches, "So, they still together then?"

"Yep, and before you ask: yes, they still engage in PDA and yes, it's still gross..."

Peter shuddered comically before placing a hand on her back and guiding her into the sitting room.

* * *

_**March 25th 2011**_

_"Where's your overnight bag, Carla?" Peter asked as he glanced around her flat._

_"It's here," Carla raised the small bag up as she walked out of her bedroom, wearing a grey sweater dress with black stockings paired with her long, suede high heeled boots. Peter let out a wolf whistle as he eyed her, taking the bag from her hand and smiling as she pressed an appreciative kiss to his lips,_

_"Nice earrings," he remarked as he pushed her hair back over her shoulder with his hand_

_"Thank you, they were a present," she responded cheekily_

_"Oh? Well whoever bought them has great taste..."_

_"I'll be sure to let him know,"_

_"Secret admirer?"_

_Carla shook her head, "casual fling." she winked at him as he chuckled, "you're looking very smart tonight, yourself," she whispered before pushing away from him and heading towards her coat rack._

_"Oh, hang on love, I have something I want you to wear tonight."_

_"Other than the earrings?" She turned curiously to face him_

_Peter smirked, before digging into the small bag he had hidden in his coat, "Yes, but it's something a bit more...discreet," he hinted as he pulled out the package and handed it to her, watching as she turned it over in her hands, her eyebrows raising surprisingly before meeting his gaze._

_"Really?"_

_"Yep."_

_"Seriously?"_

_"Yep."_

_"Okay, so just to be clear:" she began as she opened the package, "you want me to wear this," she held up the small, purple teardrop shaped clitoral vibrator, "that you'll be able to control using this," she held up the small pen-like remote, "to dinner with your sister and her date, who just so happens to be a client of mine?"_

_"Yes," Peter stepped towards her, brushing her hair away with his hand once more as he cupped her cheek, "You may be in control in the boardroom, per say, but I want total control in the bedroom tonight. And I figured if we have to sit through an excruciating dinner with your client, than we may as well make the most of it, and have some fun along the way. You know, start with some foreplay at dinner. Why?" he smirked at her, his thumb brushing along her lips, "Do you have a problem with that?"_


	22. Chapter 22

_**March 25th 2011**_

_"Okay, now you're just doing that on purpose!" Carla stated, her face contorting in sheer frustration as she shifted in her seat._

_"Doing what?" Peter asked, taking his eyes off the road for mere seconds to glance at her_

_"Hitting them bumps purposefully..." She responded glibly_

_"I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about, Carla," he said innocently before steering the car ever so slightly towards yet another ridge in the asphalt_

_"Hmmph," Carla grunted, her eyes closing as the car jolted and she pressed her legs together in a vain attempt to stop the throbbing occurring between her thighs as the vibrator buzzed softly against her._

_"You alright there, love?" Peter grinned, reaching his hand over and stroking her leg softly_

_Carla opened her eyes and narrowed them at the man next to her, "Now you listen and you listen good Barlow: unless you plan on turning this car around and driving to your place where you can really have your fun with this vibrator that you've purchased - in private," she plucked his hand up off her thigh, "you best be keeping your hands to yourself!"_

_"Okay, as you wish," Peter laughed, as Carla dropped his hand onto his lap, watching as she sulkily crossed her arms and stared out the passenger window, "though I think you'll be changing your tune shortly,"_

_"Is that so?"_

_"Oh yes," he chuckled, "I reckon you'll be begging me to touch you in no time..."_

_"You are so full of yourself," she mumbled_

_"...and you so want to be filled **by** me..."_

_Carla smiled in spite of herself, as Peter pulled into a carpark near the restaurant and parked, "you just think you're so clever, don't you?" she asked as they climbed out of the car, and headed to the meter where Peter proceeded to put coins into, "Like you've got this all panned out?"_

_Peter chuckled as he took the ticket, "Oh, what's the matter, love? Are you honestly trying to tell me that this is the first time you've ever experimented with a sex toy outside of the bedroom?"_

_"Me? Oh no, I've done this kind of thing twice before," she responded slyly, leaning against the car and watching as he placed the printed ticket on his dashboard_

_Peter shut the driver's side door, "Twice?" he prodded as he came to stand in front of her._

_"Hmm mmm," she curled her hands around his neck, pulling him against her and biting her lip gently_

_"With who?" even he could hear the edge of jealousy tinged in his voice_

_"Once with Paul, and then once with Tony."_

_"Just once with each?"_

_"Once was enough,"_

_"Oh? And why's that?" he pecked her lips softly, "too much for you to handle?"_

_"On the contrary, once were enough for them to realize what a massive mistake it was..."_

_"Mistake?" His brow furrowed as she nodded, "mistake how?"_

_She smiled seductively, twirling her fingers around the hair at the back of his head as she kissed him; her tongue skimming along his top lip before capturing it between hers, her body pressing into his. He groaned against her mouth, sliding his hands down to her lower back and pulling her steadily against him, hearing her moan in response and relishing in the sound before she pulled back and smiled cheekily at him._

_"Guess you'll find out, and all..." she slid out from between him and the car, running her hands down to smooth out her dress and positioning the purse on her shoulder. She flashed him a knowing look before linking her arm in the crook of his elbow and tugging him towards the restaurant, "Come on," she encouraged him, "sooner we go in, sooner we can leave..."_

_"No, but seriously Car, mistake how...?"_

_"Finally! Just as we were about to lose hope," Tracy chided as Carla and Peter entered the main doors of the restaurant._

_"Ahh, there's that delightful, positive energy that I've missed about you, Trace," Peter teased, giving her a wink._

_Tracy shook her head at him, trying to suppress the smile that always tugged at her lips at her and her brother's banter and failing miserably._

_"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, before acknowledging the man next to her, "I believe you know Frank," she smirked_

_"Of course, nice to see you again, mate," Peter held out his hand and nodding as Frank shook it firmly._

_"Likewise," Frank responded courteously, before he stepped forward and gave Carla a chaste kiss on the cheek, "lovely to see you again, Carla."_

_"Well thank you for inviting us," Carla replied with a genuine smile, "alright, Tracy? You look nice!"_

_"Aww, thanks babe!" Tracy chuffed, linking her arm around Frank's and beaming._

_"Look, Frank, I uhh, wanted to apologize about our misunderstanding yesterday," Peter started, catching Carla offguard as she craned her head to look at him._

_"Nonsense, Peter! No apologies are needed, I understand entirely," Frank brushed him off, "it was simply crossed wires, but for what it's worth I apologize as well. Not just for our exchange, of course, but mostly for taking my anger out on you, Carla."_

_The factory boss waved her hand dismissively in the air, "as I said earlier today, it's forgotten."_

_"Right," Tracy chimed in, "well, before we all join hands and start singing 'Kumbaya'," she nodded towards the hostess, "I believe she's trying to get your attention, Frank."_

_"Oh sorry! Lead the way, please," he gestured to the woman, before falling into step behind her with Tracy._

_Carla exchanged a look with Peter, "here we go..."_

_"Your table, sir." The hostess stood next to a table in the back corner of the restaurant. Perfectly stationed to see all that was going on, but removed from the view of the other customers._

_"Thank you," Frank smiled courteously_

_"Oh, do you always get this good of a table when you come here?" Tracy commented as he pulled out her chair for her, delighting in being treated so chivalrously._

_Frank though, was inwardly seething as he watched Peter do the same for Carla, only with a look and a touch that was distinctly more intimate. He forced himself to count to ten; he could feel his jealousy beginning to get the better of him. He had a plan to drive a wedge between them tonight, and couldn't risk the whole thing too early on simply because his emotions got the better of him._

_Across the table, and none the wiser to Frank's burning gaze, Peter pushed Carla's chair in and leaned down close to her ear, "comfortable?" he whispered cheekily, pressing the small button on the remote he had clutched in his palm and watching her squirm briefly as the vibrator switched back on to a pulsating rhythm of slow, steady beats._

_She bit her lip as she composed herself and stubbornly turned to him, "Very..."_

_Peter chuckled at her bravado and pulled his chair in to sit as close to her own as possible_

_'Oh I'm going to enjoy this,' he thought mischievously._

_As the waiter poured water into each of their glasses, Carla's face continued to flush as the vibrator persistently pulsed softly against her. Once the waiter filled her glass, she smiled sweetly at the man, lifted the glass to her lips and drank it down in three large sips as Frank and Tracy mulled over the wine list._

_Peter placed his hand teasingly on her thigh as the waiter replenished her glass, "thirsty?"_

_Carla's eyes darted quickly to the couple across from them and, noting they were engaged in the menu, turned quickly back to Peter and mouthed, 'horny...'_

_Peter grinned at her, "give me time, love," he whispered, "and I'll be more than happy to help you deal with that. Once you beg me too, of course..."_

_"Hmmm, let's just see who'll be begging whom, Barlow..."_

_"Is a Chianti alright with you, Carla?" Tracy called out to her_

_"Oh umm, no none for me thank you! I'll just have some fizzy water."_

_"Oh come on," Tracy chirped, "We were going to order a bottle, least you could do is join us in a tipple," she teased, "my brother doesn't mind, do you Peter?"_

_"Not at all," Peter shook his head, his eyes not leaving Carla's, "have a glass love," Peter smiled at her, "it won't bother me."_

_Carla sighed and rubbed her lips together, "okay, but just the one," she turned to face Frank, "I've got an early phone conference in the morning."_

_"Seriously? On a Saturday?" Frank chuckled, raising his hand and placing it on her arm, "No rest for the wicked eh?"_

_Peter watched as Frank softly caressed Carla's shoulder before giving it an affectionate squeeze, and he was hit with a wave of possessiveness. A__cting on instinct, he quickly pressed the remote he had tucked in his palm._

_"Ahh," Carla gasped as the vibrator intensified against her, catching her completely by surprise._

_"You okay?" Frank removed his hand quickly, worry taking over his demeanour_

_Carla inhaled and exhaled a steady breath as she tried to regain control of her reactions, "Yeah, sorry it's just my shoulder. Been a bit sore after my workout today. Must have gone too heavy on them free weights." She chuckled before taking another sip of water, her eyes boring into Peter's over the rim._

* * *

_**May 7th 2011**_

"Oh my God!" Frank sprung away from Tracy and rose to his feet, "Carla, what's happened?"

"Oh, well I did try to warn her about trying to play kick about in them heels Frank, but you know Carla! She just wouldn't listen..." Peter retorted sarcastically

"Ignore him," Carla chided, giving Peter a playful slap on his cheek, "Some guy were in a rush to get to the arrivals gate and he basically tried to run right through me."

"Is it serious?" Frank asked as he helped her to sit down

"Just a sprain," Peter responded, "but she has to go back on Monday to see how bad of a sprain it is."

"Well, don't worry about coming into work on Monday then, I can look after things." Frank responded, crouching down in front of Carla

"Oh, don't be silly Frank," she waved her hand dismissively at him, "my appointment's not till the afternoon."

"Okay, if you insist on coming in, then I'll drive you to your appointment."

"Oh no, that's alright, Peter's already offered to give me a lift. Besides, you need to stay at the factory and ensure that that lot don't try to skive off early."

Frank nodded and rose back up to his feet, placing his hands on his hips, "okay but I don't want you overwhelming yourself. If you change your mind on Monday, just shoot me a text. Hayley and I can handle the place."

"Will do, but I'm telling you, it looks worse than it is."

"Here you are, love," Dierdre said as she placed a mug down on the table in front of Carla,

"Cheers,"

"Do you want your leg propping up? I could get out the footstool out for you?"

Carla shook her head as she cupped the mug between her palms, "no, thank you Dierdre, I'm alright for now."

"Yeah," Peter agreed as he moved his chair beside Carla's, "she doesn't need a footstool when she's got me," he chuckled as he lifted her leg and placed it in his lap, giving her thigh a quick rub as he smiled at her, "isn't that right love?"

"Mmm mm," Carla swallowed the sip of her coffee, "my hero," she chuckled.

* * *

_**March 25th 2011**_

_He eyed her as they finished their appetizers, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips as she continued to squirm sporadically in her seat. He had been sitting silently for a while now, sipping on his lime and soda, as they listened to Tracy's ideas for a menswear line, but his eyes hadn't moved from Carla...more precisely, they hadn't moved from Frank and Carla._

_He watched as Frank kept turning to Carla, edging his chair ever closer to hers, as they looked over some of the pictures Tracy had sketched._

_He watched as Frank kept placing his hands somewhere on or near Carla during Tracy's pitch: his arm slung around the back of her chair; touching her arm, her thigh..._

_And the whole time that Peter sat there watching, his anger and jealousy simmering away on the inside, Carla seemed none the wiser._

_And this just added fuel to the fire._

_He kept his game up, pressing the remote and enjoying in watching her squirm briefly before clearing her throat or taking a sip of water to cover her tracks as she remembered just how much control he had of her, quite literally in the palm of his hand, and would flash him a seductive smile. He couldn't deny he had enjoyed bringing her close to the brink - twice-, watching as her face had flushed and her lower lip trembled as she bit it, her body shifting ever so slightly as she tried her best to mask her pending orgasm. But both times inadvertently caught the attention of Frank and Peter quickly turned the vibrator off just before Carla was pushed over the edge, earning him both a sigh of discomfort and a look of pure menace from her. But Peter wouldn't apologize for it. It had suddenly dawned on him what Carla meant by this game of his being a mistake: Frank was becoming dangerously close to seeing Carla in the midst of an orgasm, whether he knew it or not, and to Peter that caused a protectiveness and possessiveness that he hadn't quite anticipated. _

_But while he struggled with not wanting Carla to orgasm under Frank's now watchful gaze, he also had this desire to punish her somewhat for not pulling away from Frank's flirtatious touches. And so, just as she was about to take a sip of her wine, he turned it back on for a third time. _

_Carla paused for a moment before taking another sip of her wine, her eyes glancing at a smirking Peter and she had this burning urge to either chuck the wine over his head or straddle him. Deciding on neither she decided to up the ante. She knew Frank was being touchy with her, but he always was. She had been in this trade for so long that flirting was part and parcel of the job to her; it was a part of it she secretly hated, but resigned herself to it being harmless as long as she kept her boundaries up. So far, Frank hadn't breached her boundaries, but she knew he had breached Peter's. And if he was going to punish her for it, she was going to punish him as well. _

_Unbeknownst to either of them, by the second time Peter had turned off the vibrator right before Carla peaked, Frank had caught on to what was going on between them. Inwardly he fumed, realizing just how close they really were to each other and feeling his blood pressure rising as he watched them exchange furtive glances. He knew Peter was protective of Carla, and he also knew that Carla was not impressed in having her private life put on display for those around her. This was the knowledge he would use to force them apart. It was now or never; he__ had to put his plan in action sooner than he had originally planned. So as he and Carla politely told Tracy that her plan was an innovative one but that a similar line already existed and trying to replicate it could cause bring undue legal aspects into both his company and Underworld's, Frank made his move,_

_"But I'm sure we'd eventually be open to the idea if we can find a way around the legalities, right Carla?" he stated, making a grand gesture of wrapping his arm about Carla's shoulders and pulling her in slightly closer to him, ensuring his hand ran softly up and down her arm._

_Carla shifted as the vibrator suddenly picked up to an increasing speed against her, "Umm, yeah," she stuttered as she tried to compose herself, "it's definitely something to keep in mind for the future." She turned to glance at Peter, noticing him shake his head slightly in annoyance to where Frank's arm remained around her. And a__s Tracy excused herself to the toilets,__ instead of her easing out of Frank's touch, which was her initial instinct, Carla decided to play Peter at his own game. _

_The bookie's eyes narrowed as Carla raised her hand to her neck, using her fingers to gently caress her collarbone and remaining firmly fixed under Frank's arm._

_"So, I hear you're also going to Spain with Amy and Steve, Peter," Frank said, his hand still gently caressing Carla's arm as he raised his free hand to grasp his wine glass. Taking a sip his eyes involuntarily followed the pattern of Carla's fingers as they traced along her skin._

_"Uhh, yeah, me and my son Si are heading out for a bit of a break," Peter responded his eyes not leaving Carla's._

_"Well probably for the best after everything that's happened, eh?" Frank removed his arm from around the woman next to him and leaned forward on the table, ensuring his body was as close to Carla's as possible._

_"Excuse me, what?" Peter furrowed his brow at Frank as Carla also turned her questioning gaze at her business client._

_"You know, with everything that happened with Leanne," Frank responded smugly_

_"And how do you know about that?" Peter leaned forward, keeping his voice low but unable to mask the disdain in his voice_

_"Oh, was it meant to be secret, then?" _

_"Frank-" Carla began in a warning tone_

_"Did you tell him?" Peter asked her incredulously_

_"What? No!" She shot back._

_Peter kept his eyes on Carla, "So how comes he- your client-" he raised the hand that clutched his lime and soda firmly in his grasp and pointed to Frank "happens to know about it?"_

_"Well I don't know, do I?" she shot back, momentarily forgetting about the vibrator as it continued to pulse against her as anger at his accusatory tone started to raise its ugly head, "he is dating your sister, after all! You know: gob-on-a-stick?" _

_"Actually," Frank chimed in innocently, "I found out the day of your wedding blessing, Peter," he took a sip of his wine, "Carla was meant to meet me in the Rovers for a meeting, during your reception, and when none of you turned up, everyone was in there gossiping about it. They were only too eager to spill the beans on what happened." He placed his hand on Carla's, "so stop blaming Carla, she said nowt about it." __Carla removed her hand from Frank's , much to his chagrin but he covered it well by leaning back casually in his chair as she reached for her wine glass, _

_"You made plans to have a meeting at my wedding reception?" Peter asked Carla quietly, unable to contain the hurt in his voice_

_"Peter," Carla lowered her voice, "it weren't a meeting per say, it were just a friendly drink," she shrugged, "you know to talk some shop, but, nothing formal."_

_"But it had to be at my wedding reception," Peter accused her, "anything to stick the boot in, eh?"_

_"Peter-" _

_"I'm sorry to be butting in here, but you were marrying Leanne, Peter," Frank prodded, "Even if I weren't a client but a date, why would that matter to you? You made your choice after all."_

_"Frank!" Carla stated warningly_

_"And what's that supposed to mean," Peter raised his voice angrily_

_"Oh my God," Carla mumbled in pure embarrassment as she brought her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose._

_"Listen everyone in that pub told me what you did and said to Carla in that church," Frank chided him_

_"And what about what you did to her after the mixer eh?" Peter goaded him_

_"Alright stop this, now," Carla gritted out angrily, "this is not the time or the place for this."_

_"You're right, Carla. I'm sorry for bringing it up," Frank added slyly, "I am sorry Peter, I hadn't realized it was still such a sore point for you..."_

_As if on cue, Tracy arrived back to the table and spotting the tension almost immediately, her face broke into a wide grin, "Ooh what have I missed then?"_

_Carla shook her head, "nothing Tracy, just a misunderstanding," she tried to brush it off_

_"Nope. Not buying it," She folded her arms on the table and leaned forward, "come one then, misunderstanding about what?"_

_"Just leave it Tracy," Peter responded firmly, "for once in your life..."_

_"Ooh, you must have struck a nerve Frank."_

_Carla sighed, and took a large gulp of her wine, suddenly aware again of the vibrator being on its highest setting and being unable to find a position that lessened its intensity, "could we just," she exhaled shakily, "draw a line under this and move on please?" _

_"I think it's time you draw a line with this so-called client of yours and move on," Peter stated_

_Carla raised her eyebrows at him, "I beg your pardon?"_

_"You heard," Peter responded thinly, his eyes unmoving from hers_

_"Peter," she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, getting more frustrated by the look of satisfaction gracing the bookie as her body instinctively responded to the vibrator's movements, "my business and whom I deal with, is not up for discussion."_

_"Is that right?" he challenged her_

_"Yeah, that's right," she shot back_

_Tracy roved her gaze between Carla, Peter and Frank. She could see the way Frank looked at the factory boss. She wasn't stupid to think he wasn't trying to get with her all along. Nor was she jealous to see him being so brazen about his flirtation with her through dinner so far. After all, she was merely using him as a front while she continued to put her plan to split Steve and Becky up into action. She smiled in spite of herself; adding a bit of fuel to this little triangle would certainly keep her entertained throughout the remainder of the dinner. _

_"You alright there, Carla?" Tracy asked, as her eyes took in the factory boss's features, "you're looking quite flushed..."_

_Carla licked her lips and pressed them together, "yeah I'm fine," she breathed out shakily, "just been a bit light-headed since the gym earlier," she narrowed her eyes at Peter, "comes and goes." _

_Peter smirked at her and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he watched her struggle to control her reactions._

_"Are you sure?" Frank placed one arm around her shoulder again, and used the other to gently rub her other arm up and down, "she's right you know, you're looking quite uncomfortable," he lowered his voice to a whisper "What can I do to help?"_

_"Hmmm," Carla grunted, closing her eyes and wanting to pull away from Frank's touch but at the same time unable to, her body desperately responding to her impending orgasm, "No really, I'm fine," she said, leaning forward and grabbing her water glass, hoping to mask the moment she peaked by drinking some water._

_But the moment didn't come. For the third time, the vibrator suddenly turned off and once again left her almost panting with want. She quickly took a gulp of the liquid in her glass, and her eyes burned into Peter's. Only this time, she wasn't playful. This time she was damn near murderous. _

_She felt her purse buzz, and placing her water glass down, she shifted away from Frank and pulled her phone out, seeing Maria's name flashing on the screen, she silenced the call, unbeknownst to the rest of the table. _

_"I'm sorry, but I really need to take this call," Carla said, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet, "be back in a tick," she glared at Peter for a brief moment before spinning on her heel and pressing her mobile to her ear, "Hello, Carla Connor!" she initially headed for the hallway leading to the toilets, and away from prying eyes, lowered the phone to her side. She was just about to enter the ladies room, when a hand wrapped around her elbow and steered her towards the front doors._

_"This way," Peter ordered her as they stepped into the brisk March air and he pulled her into a nearby ginnel. He quickly spun her around and pushed her back into the wall. Grabbing her hands with his own, he hoisted them above her head._

_"Really, love? The old, 'I have to take a phone call' trick. I'll take that," he held both her wrists in one of his, and took her mobile out of her hand with his free one, tucking it into his back pants pocket, "just what exactly were you going to do, Carla?"_

_"You know what I was going to do..." she sneered at him_

_"Yes, but I'd rather hear you say it," he smirked at her._

_She stubbornly shook her head at him, "never."_

_"So it got too much for you, did it love?" he teased her, "needed to go give yourself a release?"_

_"Got too much for you, more like." she threw back at him_

_"How do you figure that?" he brushed the back of his fingers down her neck, thoroughly enjoying the fight in her._

_"You were being deliberately cruel in there," she responded as she pushed against him, "almost bringing me to the brink three times and then just stopping it. And all because Frank was winding you up. But by trying to take it out on me, you finally figured out why this little game of yours was such a mistake..."_

_She had him. He knew it._

_"Yeah. You're right," he shrugged, attempting at nonchalance and failing miserably, "I couldn't stand that he was practically all over you, and him watching you getting close to an orgasm Carla was the final straw," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I want to be the only one to see you like that..." he pressed a kiss to her lips, and gently bit her lower lip as he pulled away, before laying soft pecks along her cheek and jaw._

_"Oh, and after all of that you think I'm just going to let you, do you?" She purred, her chest rising and falling in short, quick bursts as her breathing became shallow to his ministrations._

_"Are you saying you don't want a release, Carla?" he whispered, gently biting her earlobe with his teeth, "not even a little bit..." He moved back so that he was staring directly in her misty eyes, "I think we both know that's a lie..." he reached into his jacket pocket and held up the small remote in front of her, watching as her breathing became more ragged, her lips parting and her body trembling against him in anticipation, while all the while smirking at him seductively. "How about a compromise? Hmm? I'll admit that this little game of mine was a mistake, if you admit that you're lying about wanting me to make you cum..." he smiled at her, "what do you say? Shall we call a truce?" his thumb hovered over the button. She licked her lips absentmindedly and she pushed her hips against his, "well?" Peter prodded her_

_"Deal..." the word barely passed her lips and he found himself pressing the button; unable to tease her any further. She gasped as the vibration started up again, and threw her head back when Peter pressed the button twice more, increasing the speed to a fast, steady rhythm._

_She grunted as the vibrator pulsed consistently against her as she tried to ground her hips against his for more friction. Her eyes closed as she leaned her head against the brick wall behind her, letting out a moan as Peter's lips kissed and licked their way around her neck while he disposed of the remote into his pocket before reaching his hand up and under her dress; using his fingers to slightly pull her stockings and knickers down just enough so he could cup the vibrator against her with his palm._

_Carla bucked against him as two of his fingers sunk into her, steadily pumping in and out of her while he palmed the vibrator, applying pressure in small, slow circles against her. Her gasps and moans grew louder and she rose onto the balls of her feet, almost as though she were trying to inch away from him and the overwhelming feeling that began to stir within her._

_He placed his leg between hers, using his hips to hold her steady against him as his lips continued to lick and suck their way up to her jawline._

_"Oh god, Peter, yes! Right there..." she groaned as the vibrator hit the right spot and feeling that pull stemming from deep in her abdomen. He gently pressed the vibrator against her, his fingers now curling slightly inside her as he found her G spot and masterfully began to stroke it as she bucked against him almost furiously_

_"Let go, baby," he whispered as he finally released her wrists and kissed the corner of her mouth, "just for me..."_

_With a loud gasp, she grabbed onto his shoulders and threw her head back, her eyes closing as her body shook against him. He feverishly captured her lips as her mouth hung agape, feeling every bit of her orgasm as it dripped onto his hand._

_She responded hungrily to his kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck and holding him as close to her as possible as she came down from her euphoric state._

_She quickly reached down with one hand and tried to swat his hand away, needing the vibrator to cease as it became almost painful against her now sensitive flesh._

_He obliged, removing the vibrator from against her and pulling away from her, smiling in satisfaction as she adjusted her knickers and stockings while still propped against the wall, her eyes remaining closed and her breathing ragged as she attempted to slow her heart rate back to its normal rhythm._

_She opened her eyes to focus on him as he turned the vibrator off and wrapped it in a handkerchief before pocketing it in his jacket_

_"Is that the same hanky you had the night of the mixer?" She questioned with a chuckle and he nodded._

_"I've got more use out of it with you in the last month then I ever have in its existence." He stepped close to her bringing his hands up to caress her face and he kissed her softly. "We better head back in or they might send out a search party."_

_"I must look a right state," she said, as she pushed herself away from the wall and smoothing down her dress._

_"You look beautiful," he answered genuinely, "here," he handed her back her mobile, "just pretend you're ending the 'call' you had, and then pop into the ladies. I said I was out here to have a cig, so I better light one up quickly and I'll meet you back there." He kissed her once more, before giving her a playful swat on her backside, "go on!"_

_She mockingly saluted him, "yes sir!" Before reluctantly heading back into the restaurant without him, she turned back to him, "by the way, we'll discuss what happened at that table later," and with that, her phone pressed to her ear, she pretended to finish off her business call and re-entered the restaurant. _

* * *

**May 7th 2011**

"Well, as lovely as this catchup has been, I best be getting hop-a-long here home," Peter said, placing his mug and Carla's into the sink and heading back to the table to help Carla to her feet, "Dad, could you call Simon down for us?"

"Actually Peter, we were wondering if you'd be alright if Si stayed at ours tonight?" Dierdre asked

"Really?"

"Yeah," she smiled, hugging her mug closer to her, "we've missed him these past six weeks,"

"Yes, and we thought we'd take him and Amy out for the day tomorrow now that they're both back." Ken chimed in.

Peter nodded, "well, yeah that would be great actually, thanks! Works out well, to be honest, especially since I really should be keeping an eye on muggins here before she does herself any further damage," he responded, nudging Carla playfully with his elbow

"Oh Peter, give it a rest, I'm not an invalid," Carla snapped irritably, as she pushed herself to her feet

"No love, but you did try to hop the whole way out of hospital on your good foot because you refused to use them crutches-"

Carla sighed, "I know-"

"And what happened? You nearly got yourself run over by a woman in an electric scooter because of it-"

"Okay, Peter, you've made your point," she acquiesced, "though in my defence, that woman were gonna hit me whether I were on crutches or not!" She lowered her voice to a mumble, "zipping around on that thing like she were flippin' Andretti..."

"Si!" Peter called out, "Come down and say bye to me and Carla, son!"

"I'm not coming with you?" the young boy asked as he ran down the stairs

"No Si, you're going to stay here tonight, because grandad and grandma Dierdre are going to take you and Amy out tomorrow."

"Are you coming over to ours for dinner tomorrow Carla?" Simon asked

"Oh Carla, we have that business meeting tomorrow evening at the Bistro, remember?" Frank stated

"Have we?" Carla questioned curiously

"Yes, possible new client at 7PM," Frank raised his eyebrows as Carla furrowed her brow, "I did put it in the diary..."

_'Why isn't this ringing any bells...'_ she thought frantically. _'Have I been that distracted with Peter coming back?'_ "And you're sure it's tomorrow, Frank?"

"Positive. Have you actually forgotten?" Frank chided her, "Like I said yesterday, you need a P.A.,"

"Yes Frank, I am working on it you know," Carla sighed.

"Well, until then, maybe you should re-consider upgrading your phone to something that has a digital calendar," Frank said as he plucked her purse off the chair and placed it on her shoulder, "we can write it off as a business expense."

"Yeah, I dunno, maybe. I'll think about it," She responded as she readjusted herself on her crutches, "That's so strange, though. It's not usually like me to forget something like that"

"Well, it's not surprising Carla, I mean it is a bit odd isn't it?" Peter weighed in

"What is?" she asked

"Scheduling a business meeting on a Sunday evening," Peter glanced curiously to Frank, "I mean, I know she's a bit of a workaholic and such, but that's a little much even by her standards."

"Well, in this trade new business can easily become obsolete if you insist on scheduling meetings around your days off. But I can always call and rearrange, if you prefer Carla?" Frank offered

"No, no, I'll be there. I mean, there must have been a reason we scheduled the meeting for tomorrow in the first place," Carla turned to Simon, "I'm so sorry darlin' but maybe another time this week?"

"Can we get pizza?" Simon asked excitedly

Carla leaned down close to him, "We can have anything you want," she whispered, "Your dad's paying!" she winked at him as Peter laughed.

"Alright mister, hug," Peter opened his arms as Simon threw himself into them, "now you be good for your grandpa Ken and your grandma Dierdre, okay?"

"Okay," Simon agreed before turning to Carla and carefully hugging her as well, "bye Carla! Hope you feel better!"

"Thanks Si," Carla ruffled his hair

"Right," Peter stated, "after you hoppy."

"Hilarious," Carla scoffed, rolling her eyes at him as she shuffled past him

"Bye, all" Peter called out, "Frank," he nodded curtly, flashing the businessman a knowing grin as he placed his hand on the small of Carla's back.

"Please tell me that was not yet another pissing contest, Pe'er!" Carla said as they closed the door to Number 1.

"No, no, not at all," Peter chuckled, as he guided her down from the sidewalk and onto the cobblestone road, "well, maybe just a wee one..."

"Oh Ha ha!" She quipped sarcastically, "since when did you start doing stand-up?"

"Had to find some way to keep myself busy on those cold, Spanish nights."

"Oh, my heart bleeds," Carla retorted as she pulled herself up onto the sidewalk near Audrey's salon, "I'm being serious though Peter, I don't want a repeat of what happened before you left..."

"There won't be, love," Peter assured her, slipping his hand around her arm and tugging her gently towards him, "but you can't begrudge a man a bit of fun."

Carla shoved him back playfully with one hand but he quickly grasped it and pulled her towards him, using his thumb to brush across her mouth, before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against hers, "Now, shall we stop for a takeaway before we get back to yours? Or would you prefer to just head straight for the bedroom...?"

* * *

_**March 25th 2011**_

_"I feel a bit bad," Frank said as the waiter took away their empty appetizer plates,_

_"About what?" Tracy scoffed_

_"I shouldn't have said anything about the wedding blessing. We were having such a nice evening," Frank stated with feigned concern_

_"Oh don't worry about it," Tracy brushed him off, "our Peter has always had a temper. He's ruined more than his fair share of relationships over it."_

_Frank smirked, and nodded, "Still, I'm going to head out there and apologize. Try to keep the peace for the remainder of dinner."_

_"Suit yourself," Tracy chuckled as she took a sip of her wine._

_Frank rose to his feet, and headed towards the main doors, nearly bumping into Carla as she turned out of the hallway from the toilets._

_"Oh, sorry Carla," he said, "everything okay?"_

_"What?" She asked_

_He nodded towards the phone in her hands, "with the call?"_

_"Oh," Carla chuckled, "Yeah just Maria passing on a message from a supplier," she looked back to the table where Tracy was sitting on her own, "Where are you off to?"_

_"I'm going to apologize to Peter, properly."_

_"Frank-" Carla shook her head_

_"No, I need to apologize, I were in the wrong," Frank said gently, "And I don't want any further tension this evening."_

_Carla licked her lips, and shook her head, "Okay, but I'm going on record to say, that I think you should just leave it."_

_"Duly noted." He smiled, patting her arm as he side stepped her and headed out the doors, while Carla begrudgingly went to sit back in her seat, flashing Tracy a tight smile as she did so._

_"Ahh, Peter," Frank called out as he spotted the bookie stubbing out his cigarette and headed over to him_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Look, I wanted to apologize for what I said in there. I didn't mean to draw a wedge between you and Carla."_

_Peter smiled thinly, "is that what you think happened?"_

_"Well, if it it did,it certainly wasn't intentional," Frank cocked his head_

_"I think it were exactly what you were intending," Peter responded, "but luckily for you, Carla and I are a lot stronger than whatever you try to put between us."_

_"Well, that's good to hear. Especially as you're going away after all,"_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"Well, a lot can happen in over a month Peter," Frank shrugged_

_Peter shook his head incredulously, "You are a piece of work, you know that?"_

_"How so?" Frank furrowed his brow curiously, "I wasn't the one who embarrassed that woman by telling her in front of a church full of witnesses that I didn't want her," Frank smirked, "What must she be thinking, eh? Having to work with and pass by all those witnesses knowing they know she isn't your first choice?" He watched as Peter's face fell slightly as guilt flooded through him, "Maybe the month apart will remind her that she is deserving of being someone's first choice, and not just their 'maybe'..."_

_Peter scoffed, trying to contain his anger, "You know, you may think you're fooling everyone around you with this 'respectable businessman' lark, but I'm warning you now," he said, stepping menacingly towards Frank, "if I hear you've so much as placed one of your slimy hands on Carla again, client or not: I'll make you wish you'd never clapped eyes on her."_

_Frank rose his eyebrow, "Oh Peter," he clucked, "after your performance in that restaurant tonight, I think you'll find it's you that she wishes she'd never clapped eyes on..." he smiled confidently, "But don't worry, I'll keep an eye on the lovely Carla for you while you're away...Make sure she gets home safely at night and all that. That's what friends are for after all..."_

_"I'm warning you-" Peter gritted out, clenching his fists tightly at his side_

_"Actually, you know what? I really don't need all the aggro that you spark with your little fling with Carla. Perhaps it's best if I just pull my order from her business altogether. Of course I'd have to take her to court for the unprofessional conduct that caused me to pull production and find other premises. Bankrupt her business and then buy it for a song. I wonder: would she really appreciate you sticking your oar in then, Peter?"_

_"You sick-"_

_"I don't want to do it Peter, but you keep threatening me, and I will." Frank turned on his heel and made to head back into the restaurant, when Carla came around the corner with her coat and purse, "Carla? What's going on?" he asked._

_"Oh, I'm really sorry, Frank but I'm really not feeling great and I'm going to call it a night,"_

_"Oh no," Frank's face fell; he hadn't been expecting this turn of events, "I'm so sorry to hear that."_

_"Yeah, I am very sorry. I've uhhh cancelled mine and Peter's entrees; luckily they hadn't started them yet, so you shouldn't be charged for them, and umm, next time will be on me, alright?" She said as she stood next to Peter and put on her coat._

_"Of course, just feel better, okay?" He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close for a hug, enjoying the look on Peter's face as he did so and gently kissed her cheek before pulling back, "we'll talk soon."_

_"Of course, I'll see you next week about your order's progress." She smiled at him, "Night, Frank."_

_"Night Carla," Frank nodded with a smile, "Night Peter," he added slyly_

_"Night Frank," Peter smirked at him, placing his hand on the small of Carla's back and steering her towards the carpark before quickly turning back and jogging towards Frank, "Oh, and thanks for apologizing for your remarks, by the way," he added with a satisfied smile, as he laid his hand down on Frank's shoulder, "guess she's more than wanting to just clap eyes on me now, eh?" he whispered low enough for only Frank to hear before he winked at him and headed back to Carla, leaving Frank stewing in their wake._

_Once in the car, Peter turned his concern to Carla, "Are you really not feeling well, love?" he asked as he smoothed his hand down her hair._

_"Oh no, I'm perfectly fine. I would just rather spend our last night together with you, alone, and not with your sister and my client," she responded honestly, "what do you reckon?"_

_Peter smiled at her, "Sneaky, I like it." he leaned forward and kissed her lips, "so we're okay then?"_

_Carla scoffed and shook her head, "you are kidding aren't you? Oh no, we're not okay yet..." she pulled his face closer to hers with both her hands, "but I always believed that the best part of falling out," she pressed a kiss to his lips hungrily, "is making up," she kissed him again as a smile tugged at her lips, "what do you think?"_

_"I think we have a lot of making up to do..."_

* * *

**_A/N: Well, this turned out to be a longer chapter than anticipated. Hope it was worth the wait. :)_**

**_Will Carla choose the takeaway or the bedroom...?_**

**_Check back to find out ;)_**


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